


Dangerous Waters

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alligators, Game Warden Dean, Giant Animals Eating People, Hurricane, M/M, Natural Disasters, Professor Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 04:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: Game Warden Dean Winchester loves his job. He stops poachers, teaches kids about hunting, and gets to work outside in the great State of Texas. What could be better than that? The only fly in the ointment is Castiel Novak, a wildlife biologist sent to tag Houston’s local alligator population. The dude is wicked hot, but has a stick up his ass. Assigned as Novak’s ‘babysitter’, Dean has an attitude. He’d much rather be in his truck then on a boat on the lakes and rivers surrounding the city with some scientist.They are suddenly on the hunt for a large alligator that has gone rogue, pets and livestock go missing, then a person is attacked on Lake Houston. Cas and Dean must find and neutralize the threat before it kills again. If that isn’t enough, Hurricane Harvey slams into the east coast of Texas, flooding the entire city. The gator could be anywhere. Will they put aside their dislike and work together as a team? Will love find a way into their hardened hearts?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a nod to SyFy Channel. I love natural disaster movies and giant animals eating people movies. They are my guilty pleasure. I'm not an expert on alligators, or game wardens, or hurricanes, but I did do a lot of research. If you see a glaring mistake, please let me know.

_ She glided through the dark water with a gentle swish of her tail. Temporarily sated by the goat that had come to drink from the edge of the river, she let the current carry her massive body to the bottom. The rotting vegetation swirled as the beast settled to rest. She’d seen forty mating seasons and the meal wouldn’t keep her hunger at bay for long. Eyes unblinking, she waited. Her prehistoric instincts had felt the change in the earth. She wasn’t born here. No, she’d hatched in the swamps far to the south. Humans had come, building their concrete dens, taking what wasn’t theirs. She, and those like her, had migrated east. At last, she slept. The time to hunt would come soon. _

“_ 21-19, this is County Base. Do you copy? _” 

“21-19 County. Go ahead,” Game Warden Dean Winchester said into the mic. His partner, Jo Harvelle, gave him a scathing look. If he was driving, she got radio duty. That was Rule Eight of their partnership agreement. He shrugged and flipped on his turn signal to edge into the left lane. 

“_ Deer struck by _ _ vehicle _ _ on Eldridge Parkway just north of _ _ Addicks _ _ Reservoir. _” 

Dean gave Jo a quizzical look. They didn’t usually get sent to calls like these. 

“_ Be advised it was a doe with twin fawns. Fawns are alive. _” 

“Ah, that explains it.” Dean flipped on the light bar and pushed down on the accelerator. They were just off the Sam Houston Tollway. It wouldn’t take him long. 

As they passed a sign for Addicks Reservoir, he slowed the truck and the two game wardens peered out the windshield. The morning rush hour traffic was making it hard to see anything and things were moving slow. Dean hit his siren and rode the shoulder of the road. 

“Up ahead,” Jo said and Dean saw the flashing blue lights of a trooper’s SUV pulled up, blocking the far right lane. He slid the truck behind it and, bearing mind their own safety, exited the cab. 

The white Camry would need a tow, but Dean was sure the trooper was on it. The deer had done some serious damage. Dean tipped his Stetson to the other officer. “Morning. Heard you had some fawns still alive?” 

“Yep,” the trooper said, and pointed his thumb to the wooded area a few yards away. Dean stared down the embankment into the short, scrubby trees that grew along the road. It took him a few seconds to spot the two fawns. He motioned to Jo and she went back to the truck to get the crates ready. All the warden’s trucks held dog creates for cases such as this one. Once she’d put them on the side of the road, Dean went to the doe. She’d been dragged off the road by the trooper. He rubbed his hands over her hide, transferring her scent to his hands. It wasn’t a surefire way to capture the youngsters, but it sometimes helped. 

Jo and Dean had been partners since the younger woman had finished her training. It ran in their blood. Jo’s father, Bill Harvelle, was a warden with John Winchester. He’d died when Jo was a teen. John was now the chief in Houston’s north district, and their immediate boss. After five years of riding together, they knew each other like an old married couple. While Dean got the fawns’ attention by walking down the embankment toward them, she veered wide and quietly moved in behind them. 

It took about twenty minutes in the hot Texas heat to catch the two, but Dean had the one in his arms, and her sister didn’t go far. The bleating sounds were heartbreaking. Carefully, they loaded the fawns into the crates and settled them into the bed of the truck. 

“21-19 County. We are taking the fawns to TWRC. We’re 10-7,” Dean said, using the code to tell the dispatcher they’d be out of service until further notice. 

“_ 10-4, 21-19, County Base out. _” 

With the arrival of the tow truck, traffic was at a complete standstill which made it easier for Dean to pull out onto the road in front of the wrecked car. The Texas Wildlife Rehabilitation Coalition wasn’t far from the accident and they pulled into the parking lot and then through the gate to the back of the building. 

Dean grabbed one of the crates and Jo took the other, setting them carefully on the asphalt. The bleating really was breaking Dean’s heart, so he released the clasp and gently took the babies out. They stood on trembling legs beside him. They must have smelled their mother on him, because they stayed with him while Jo headed inside the back door to get one of the staff. 

She returned with Donna Hanscum, the director. “Heya, Dean, good to see you. What do you have for me today?” 

“Mom was taken out by a Camry,” Dean told her. She frowned and made cooing noises at the fawns. 

“Well, let’s get these babies in their new home then,” she said, moving slowly to wrap her arms around one. It struggled and squealed, but settled down when she started walking toward the large barn. Dean scooped his own charge up and followed. Jo moved ahead of them to open the door. They both had been to the center enough times to know where everything was. 

Once the fawns were settled in a straw filled pen, they went to the main building to fill out the paperwork. He knew they’d be taken care of and hopefully released into the wild. 

The air conditioning hit Dean in the face and he shivered as it cooled his sweaty skin. July in Texas was not for the faint of heart. They’d only had two inches of rain for the month and Dean wished for some respite from the heat. 

They were headed east to check fishing licenses at Luce Bayou went Dean’s phone rang. When he saw the screen, he groaned. “Hey, Dad.” 

“I need you to come to the office.” There was no hello. John Winchester didn’t do small talk. He was all business. 

“Now?” 

“Yes. Now.” He hung up before Dean could respond. 

“Guess we’re heading in.” 

Jo sighed and said, “What did you do now?” 

“Bite me, Jo. I haven’t done a damn thing.” He pulled onto the parkway, wondering what he _ did _ do to be called in front of his father. The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department’s local office was located in a large complex, complete with an inner atrium. Dean and Jo walked along the pathway that led to the elevator and rode it to the third floor. 

John’s secretary, Abby, looked up when they entered. “Warden Winchester, Chief Winchester is waiting on you.” Jo shrugged and sat down on one of the chairs to wait. Dean tapped his knuckles on the door once before opening it. 

“Chief,” Dean said, having been taught as a rookie to refer to his father by his title during working hours. 

“Have a seat,” John said as he scrawled his signature across a document. Dean sat, his Stetson resting on his knee. John pushed the papers aside and looked up. “How’ve you been?” Dean blinked at him, mouth gaping open. “And Jesus, close your mouth, it makes you look simple. Can’t a father ask about his son?” 

“Uh, sure... sure. I’ve been good. Busy.” 

“I’ve heard. Your citation quota is up this month. Good work.” 

“Thanks.” Dean was dumbfounded. John Winchester didn’t do social shit, at least not when he was working. 

“I got a call from the US Fish and Wildlife Service and they are sending a man here to tag and observe some of our alligator population. Apparently, our numbers are up.” 

“Okay,” Dean said, wondering what this had to do with him. 

“He’ll need someone to work with him and I’ve volunteered you.” 

“What? Dad, shit, I don’t want to babysit some weird-ass science nerd. Why can’t Garth do it? He likes gators and snakes.” 

His father frowned over the desk at him, carefully folding his hands together on the smooth surface. “This isn’t a punishment, Dean. I want someone I can trust to ‘babysit’ this guy. Last thing Texas needs is him getting hurt on our watch. You’re the best man I have.” 

Stunned, Dean sat back in the chair. “Thanks, Da—uh, Chief. So, what do I have to do?” 

“He’ll be here on Monday. Abby has his flight information. Meet him at the airport, take him to his hotel, and work out a schedule with him. The Director has compiled a list of all alligator sightings in our area. All you have to do is take him to the different areas, and help him capture and tag.” 

“Just the two of us? There are some big gators out there.” Dean had seen a few six and seven footers. 

“He’s an expert, Dean. If he wants more manpower, he can ask for it.” 

“Roger that.” Dean stood. “Oh, how long is this supposed to last?” 

“The director has us on loan to him for three weeks.” John stood up too. “I’ll have Abby send Jo her new schedule later today.” 

Dean nodded. “Bye, Chief.” 

“Take care, son.” 

He picked up the file from Abby, and Jo followed him out to the hallway. “Looks like you’ll be on your own next week.” At her startled look, he explained the situation. She teased him about it the rest of the day. 

When his shift ended, he was more than ready to pull off his boots and settle on his couch with a bottle of beer. His little house was outside of the city, in the small area known as Porter. It was close to Lake Houston’s Wilderness Park and it didn’t leave him in the concrete jungle that was Houston. When he’d bought the place, it had been in foreclosure and was a dump, but with lots of sweat and elbow grease, it had become his sanctuary. 

With only three more days of freedom left before he had to babysit some giant nerd, Dean decided to make the most of it. He showered, changed into his tightest jeans, and headed out. Getting drunk and getting laid were on his agenda. 

“Have a great flight, Dr. Novak,” one of his students called out. This was his last class before leaving for Texas. He was looking forward to getting out of Florida. The summers were muggy and made him miss his family in Boston. 

“Thank you, Kevin,” he responded as he packed away the clutter on his desk. The usual ten-week summer class had been cut down to six, due to his scheduled sabbatical. As one of the leading herpetologists in the nation, the US Fish and Wildlife Service had called on him to get a general idea of how the population of American Alligator was thriving and growing in eastern Texas, in order to know how many hunting tags they would allow. 

He loved teaching at the University of Florida, but field research was his passion. An accomplished survivalist, a master diver, and a triathlete, Castiel Novak wasn’t your typical college professor. 

At his modest home in Gainesville, he finished his packing, cleaned out the refrigerator, and talked to the neighbor who would be watering his plants and taking in his mail. By ten that night, he was as ready as he was going to be. The large plastic case held his equipment and the suitcase held his clothing and toiletries. He settled into bed with his laptop and typed out a few emails to friends and family before turning off the light and slipping into a dreamless sleep. 

He disembarked from his flight into Houston and looked around. The message he’d received from one Chief Winchester said someone would be here to meet him, but he had no idea what to expect. He proceeded to baggage claim and hauled his suitcase and the heavy equipment case off the conveyor belt. His eyes roamed the people milling about and that’s when he spied a tan uniform. The man was wearing a cowboy hat and the insignia on his shirt told Castiel he was a game warden. 

“Excuse me, I’m Castiel Novak. Are you here to...” 

“Yeah, let’s get your stuff and get out of here.” Castiel took a moment to note that the man was handsome, yet rude. 

“Very well,” he said, walking back to his luggage. Out of spite, he took the suitcase and smiled innocently down at the equipment case. He’d hauled it before and knew it weighed about a hundred pounds. It had wheels on one end, but it was still quite heavy and awkward. “Would you mind...” 

“Sure, not a problem.” He lifted the handle and Castiel turned away to keep from smiling at the surprised look on his face. “Jeez, what did you pack? Rocks?” 

“It’s my equipment. I can take it, if you prefer.” Oh, no, Mr. Texas would not dare to appear weak. 

He followed the warden through the terminal and out to the loading zone. In the ‘No Parking’ area, sat a dark green truck with the Texas Parks and Wildlife emblem emblazoned on its door. 

The warden hefted the case into the back of the truck. Castiel easily placed his suitcase in the backseat and smiled pleasantly. “I’m staying at the Extended Stay America off the toll road, if that’s helpful.” 

“I know where it is,” the warden muttered and put the truck in drive. They rode in silence, only an occasional broadcast over the radio breaking it. Finally, Castiel said, “Your name tag says Winchester. Are you related to Chief Winchester?” 

“Yep.” He moved in and out of the thick traffic like a pro. Castiel settled back and closed his eyes. If the man didn’t want to be friendly, he was fine with it. He wasn’t here to make friends. Hopefully, this would not the warden that would be assisting him. He was pretty to look at, but he definitely wasn’t pleasant to be around. 

He must have dozed off because abrupt stop startled him awake. He looked out the window. The hotel was nondescript, a typical extended stay, inexpensive but hopefully clean. “I’ll get a cart for my things and then you can be on your way.” 

“Fine.” Castiel tried very hard not to roll his eyes as he stepped inside the lobby and located a luggage cart. He took out his equipment case before the warden could attempt it and set it down. He placed his suitcase next to it and laid his laptop case on top. 

“Thank you for the ride, Warden Winchester. Do you know when my assistant will be here tomorrow morning?” 

“First off, I’m not your _ assistant _. I’ve been assigned to keep your ass out of trouble, Cupcake. And... I’ll be here to pick you up at seven-thirty. Be ready.” 

Castiel regarded the warden for a moment before replying coldly. “That is _ Doctor _ Cupcake to you, Winchester. _ And _ , trust me, I _ will _ be ready. I hope you can keep up.” Wanting the last word, he spun on his heels and pushed the cart into the lobby. When he turned to check in at the front desk, the warden was still standing there. “Assbutt,” he muttered. It was going to be a long three weeks. He wasn’t one to throw his title around, but the man got on his last nerve. 

The next morning, he dressed in his cargo pants, a khaki shirt, and his waterproof hiking boots. He had waders in his equipment case in the event he needed them. With a final look over his inventory, he wheeled the case down the hall. He was waiting by the front door of the hotel five minutes early. God, he needed his caffeine fix. He thought about grabbing a cup of coffee and the takeaway breakfast offered in the lobby, but he didn’t have time. 

The now familiar truck pulled into the lot and stopped next to him. A boat with the same emblem was on a trailer behind it. Winchester didn’t bother getting out to help him load the case and that was fine. He vaguely wondered if Chief Winchester would let him borrow a boat and do this on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tagged alligators by himself. 

He opened the door and swung up into the passenger seat. “Wasn’t sure how you took it.” Winchester indicated the stainless-steel travel cup in the center console. “Hope you like it black.” Castiel hated black coffee. He loved flavored syrups and creamers, the more calories, the better. 

“It will do. Thank you.” All he got in return was a grunt. 

“I thought we’d start out at Bees Branch and work our way around the northern shore of Lake Houston. I’d like to start out in areas with recent sightings.” He pulled up his report on his laptop and showed Winchester the map with red pins where alligators have been reported. 

Winchester studied the map and then pointed to one side of Lake Houston. “That’s Walden Boat Ramp. We’ll put in there.” 

“Good. I hope you don’t mind stopping somewhere so I can pick up some things for lunch.” He had a few granola bars and a few bottles of water, but that wouldn’t last him the entire day. “When we get back in tonight, I’ll take an Uber to the grocery store for provisions.” 

“I have a cooler in the back with drinks, sandwiches and a couple of apples.” Castiel was surprised. So surprised, he didn’t respond for a few seconds. “It’s not much and if you don’t like it, we can swing through a drive-thru.” 

“No... no, that was very kind of you. Thank you.” 

“Kind? Nope, just didn’t want you dying of starvation on my watch.” 

“And smart too. Miracles will never cease,” Castiel said dryly. Was it a bad thing to want to drown the warden in the lake and then tag the alligators that come to feed on him? 

Winchester gave him a sideways glare, but continued driving. The trip seemed to take forever, but Castiel was content to make notes in his laptop. The silence suited him. 

The boat ramp was quiet as expected for a Tuesday morning. “Can you drive a boat?” 

“I can,” Castiel replied. “I can also back the truck if needed.” He’d grown up around Boston Harbor and could pilot a boat before he was licensed to drive a car. 

“No one drives my truck. Once I back the trailer up and unhook it, I’ll need you to hold her steady until I can park.” 

Winchester backed down the ramp until the trailer was submerged. Castiel vaulted over the side while the warden unhooked the bow line. Then he got into the cab and drove the truck back to the parking area. Castiel turned the key and the engine purred as he steered it to the small dock. Once he’d tied off the lines, he jumped out and ran up to help Winchester with their equipment. It took two trips, but soon they were racing over the north end of the lake. 

The inlet that was Bees Branch was devoid of civilization at that time of morning. Even the golf course on the north side was deserted. Dean slowed the motor and the boat glided into the slough. Castiel began watching the banks for alligator slides and other traces of their habitat. “Several sightings have happened on the golf course,” Castiel informed the warden. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard. They haven’t caused any issues though.” 

“Most of the time they won’t unless homes and human encroach on their territory. This isn’t a heavily populated area.” His eyes never strayed from the bank. Then he saw it. “There.” He pointed, and Winchester steered the boat in the direction of the slide. 

“See it,” Winchester said softly and soon Castiel felt the boat’s hull scrap the muddy bottom. The mud looked freshly turned. Castiel opened his case and pulled on his waders. Before the warden could speak, he was over the side. “Are you stupid?” Winchester hissed and his gaze swept the water as if expecting a monster to appear and suck Castiel under. 

“Far from it... hence the title _ doctor _,” he retorted as he moved through the water near the bank. 

“Smartass. You know I’m not diving in after you if a giant alligator bites your legs off.” 

“I will bear that in mind. Now, please be quiet.” Castiel studied the slide and noted that the last passage was from the creature exiting the water. “It should be close. Look in my case and toss me the orange bag.” 

Winchester did as he was told and Castiel caught the bag easily. He unzipped it and took out the small pistol that held a tranquilizer. It wasn’t enough to put it to sleep, but it would debilitate it. Smaller animals could be caught without the use of the gun, but by the look of the slide, this one might be around five feet or so. 

He moved up the bank and hauled himself out of the muck with the use of a sapling. The reeds and marsh grass made it easy to follow the trail. 

There it was, sunning itself in a grassy area just off the greens of the golf course. He smiled. It was about five feet long, a bit too big for him to attempt tagging without help. He raised his pistol and aimed for the lower neck area. He used special needles made to pierce the think hide, but he always shot at the thinnest skin. The alligator jumped and whipped its tail, looking for the thing daring to wake it. The tranquilizer did its work before it spied Castiel and its movements became slow and lethargic. 

Castiel put the pistol back into the bag and got out his tagging tool. He approached the animal from the rear and settled across his back. With a flick of his wrist, he had the tag attached on the webbing of the alligator’s front foot. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” Castiel turned to see Winchester, uniform muddy, about ten yards away. Castiel shrugged, used his tape measure to get a reading, then jumped up, clearing the alligator’s tail. He scooped up his bag and smiled at the warden. 

“Not at all. I just know what I’m doing. This one is done. Shall we move on?” 

“Guess you think you’re Crocodile Dundee or something, but from now on, you wait for me,” Winchester snapped, still eyeballing the alligator. 

“Then please learn to keep up, Winchester.” Castiel trudged back to the bank and tossed his bag into the boat before pulling himself up over the gunwale, landing easily on his feet. 

“We need to get something straight right here and now. I’m in charge. You will not go hightailing it through the... the woods unless I’m with you. Got it?” The warden was pissed and Castiel really didn’t care. 

Castiel ignored him and sat down. He picked up his phone and touched the record app. “ID Texas, Seven, seventeen, forty-two, male, five foot, two inches, approximately thirty years of age.” Then he recorded it in the small notebook he carried in his equipment case. “Shall we go?” Castiel suggested, with a benign smile. 

Did the warden just growl? Castiel smirked. Winchester started the engine and backed off the bank. Once they were in the center of the slough, he cut the motor. “I meant what I said, I’m in charge.” 

Castiel scraped his teeth over his lower lip and counted to ten before speaking. “Warden Winchester, I was given the authority by the US Fish and Wildlife Service to study the alligator population because of my experience and knowledge. I can assure you that I know what I’m doing. And for the record Crocodile Dundee was fictional character. If you want to compare me to anyone, I would prefer Steve Irwin. At least, he was a _ real _man. If you want to prove your dick is bigger than mine, I suggest we do it after my work is done.” 

“Yeah, well you might not even have a dick by then. Some alligator might bite it off.” As comebacks went, Castiel expected better. Apparently, Winchester did too, because he looked flushed and pouty. He shouldn’t look so fucking cute. 

“I’m willing to take that risk. Now, can we go?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief mention of Dean's previous lover.

_The sun was high and she basked on the secluded shore, as far from the humans as possible. Their scent tainted the earth and she avoided it. The sound alerted her, but like her ancestors, she was a hunter and knew when to stay still. The wild pigs weren’t paying attention to her. They were too intent on the small pond that would quench their thirst. She was patient. The _ _ boar, their leader, seemed to sense her and grunted his alarm, but the younger sows were drinking and couldn’t be bothered. Ironically, it was the boar that stepped too close. Her movement was a blur and her teeth bite into flesh. Blood sprayed and the sows squealed and ran. The boar jerked and thrashed in the throes of death. She ate, sated once more. _

_ *** _

The alarm woke Dean and he groaned, kicking off the tangled sheets. He rolled over and wrinkled his nose. He'd brought home a woman Saturday night and hadn’t bothered to change sheets. His bed smelled like cheap perfume. 

He quickly stripped the bed and tossed the sheets in the washer. He wasn’t due at the airport until two, and nothing else was on his schedule, so he did a quick clean of the house. He wrote out his list and drove to the Kroger to do his shopping. After he ate lunch, he showered and dressed in his uniform. He glanced at his watch and since it would take him about thirty minutes to get there, he climbed in the truck. He gave his baby, his pride and joy, his Impala, one last look before backing out of the driveway. 

Parking in the loading zone, he turned his hazard lights on and stepped out, daring the rent-a-cop to tell him to move his vehicle. He was on official business... kind of. 

Not knowing what the dude looked like was an issue, but he was a college professor, or so the file said, sosurely he’d be able to figure out that Dean was a game warden. He made his way to baggage claim and leaned against a wall, watching everyone exiting flights and grabbing their luggage. 

The older man in the ratty cargo pants and the Green Day t-shirt seemed the obvious choice and he was about to walk over to him when a really hot guy appeared in his personal space. Dean’s eyes dropped to his pretty lips then his upstairs brain picked up on what the guy was saying. 

“Excuse me, I’m Castiel Novak. Are you here to...” Shit, this was Castiel – so that’s how you pronounced it, huh? Novak. No way was he this unlucky. The guy was fucking gorgeous and he tamped down his usually flirty behavior. Business and pleasure didn’t mix. Ever. 

“Yeah, let’s get your stuff and get out of here.” He was rude, he knew it, but damned if he wanted to babysit someone that belonged in a magazine centerfold. In the end, Dean had showed his ass and got fooled into carting around the dude’s heavy-ass equipment. The man had definitely sounded like a professor, all snooty and talking like a textbook. Dean had been the dumb one in the family his whole life, he sure didn’t need this asshole to rub it in that he had a higher education. 

“Your name tag says Winchester. Are you related to Chief Winchester?” 

“Yep,” Dean said shortly, popping the ‘p’. He was used to being in the _ great _ John Winchester’s shadow, but this Novak character didn’t need to know anything about his life. He was just here to keep the man from drowning or... or falling off the dock and striking his head on a submerged rock... or having his legs chewed off by one of those big gators. Dean smiled at the thought. Thankfully, Novak didn’t see it because he was staring out his window. 

They weren’t that far from the airport when he fell asleep and it let Dean observe the man. His hair was chocolate brown and thick, unkempt too, like he’d been running his fingers through it... or someone else had. His eyes moved to the man’s left hand. No ring. How could someone that hot not be taken? Or maybe he didn’t wear a ring. It was kind of common for men. 

Dean hit the brakes hard when he stopped in front of the entrance to the extended stay hotel. He hid his laughter when Novak jumped and gave a tiny yelp in surprise. Too bad Dean didn’t catch him drooling. At least it would prove that the man wasn’t perfect. 

“I’ll get a cart for my things and then you can be on your way.” 

Dean’s mother would have been ashamed of his behavior. He didn’t even bother to help the man with his bags. He ventured a look skyward as if she was looking down on him, disapproval in her pretty features. 

By the time Dean pulled out of the parking lot, he was fuming. Uppity jackass... the nerve of the man. Calling him his assistant. Yeah, right. And then that stupid _ Doctor Cupcake _shit. Yeah, he thought he was so fucking smart. He needed a beer... maybe two or three. Unfortunately, he still had to head over to the yard and pick up the boat they’d be using. 

Dean spent a restless night. A part of him felt guilty for the way he treated Novak. To make up for it, he packed a cooler with sandwiches, drinks, and a couple of apples he had in the fridge. He added a few bottles of water and then right before he left the house, he grabbed his extra travel mug and filled it with coffee. 

Novak was waiting at the hotel entrance and Dean gave him a few brownie points for punctuality. He was all set to get out and help him when he spilled his coffee. He brushed at the small stain on his uniform pants and tried to lift them from his skin. He hissed and tried to blow on it. He’d just calmed down when the door opened and Novak slid into the passenger seat. Trying to be cool and not act like his leg was still on fire, he pointed to the extra travel mug and said, “Wasn’t sure how you took it. Hope you like it black.” 

“It will do. Thank you.” _ That will do? _ Fuck, was he trying to be a dick? Dean grunted in response. So much for starting over. 

Then Novak leaned over the console and turned his laptop. He caught a whiff of the guy’s aftershave. Woodsy. Citrusy. Sexy. Dean barely comprehended what Novak was showing him. Something about bees and sightings. _ Bees _? He studied the map and saw Bees Branch with a red pin next to it. Everything clicked and he showed Novak the boat ramp they’d use. 

Dean started the truck and before they’d even left the parking lot, Novak mentioned lunch. Dean told him about the provisions he’d packed in his cooler and the man simply stared at him like he’d grown another head. “It’s not much and if you don’t like it, we can swing through a drive-thru.” 

“No... no, that was very kind of you. Thank you.” 

“Kind? Nope, just didn’t want you dying of starvation on my watch.” Shit, his dickish behavior was back. What was it about Novak that made him act like a junkyard dog defending his territory? 

He was about to apologize and suggest they start over when Novak made that snide comment. “And smart too. Miracles will never cease.” 

So, he did think Dean was beneath him. Well, fuck him _ and _ the horse he rode up on. 

The ride to the ramp seemed to take fucking forever. Novak kept his nose buried in his computer and that suited Dean just fine. _ Fine and fucking dandy _. 

Getting the boat launched went smoother than he expected and they were on the water and skimming across the north end of the lake by nine. Dean had traded his Stetson for his state game warden’s baseball cap and Novak had pulled some worn bush hat out of that endless equipment case. 

Once Dean had slowed the boat and entered the slough, they actually had a conversation. It lasted all of two minutes before Novak sighted an alligator slide. Dean moved the boat as close to the bank as he could. When the bow plowed into the muddy bottom, he cut the engine and lifted the prop. 

Dean watched as Novak pulled on a pair of waders. His were stowed in one of the cabinets below the steering console. He was about to reach for them when Novak jumped over the side of the boat. “Are you stupid?” He kept his voice low. Last thing he wanted was for a gator to decide Novak looked tasty. 

“Far from it... hence the title _ doctor _ _ .” _ There it was again, a slur about his intelligence. God damn, the guy was a complete asshole. 

“Smartass. You know I’m not diving in after you if a giant alligator bites your legs off.” He mumbled something about being quiet, asked Dean to toss him his bag, and then he was crawling up the bank like a ninja. He disappeared into the underbrush. 

“Son of a bitch... stupid motherfucker...” Dean remembered his father’s warning. _ Make sure he doesn’t get hurt on our watch _. “Fuck,” he muttered and went over the side. The water wasn’t deep, but his boots sunk into the muck. “Damn it. Fuck this shit.” He slogged up the bank and slipped twice in the mud before making it to the drier area. He moved over the small rise and inhaled sharply. 

Novak was astride the gator like that Australian guy... shit what _ was _ his name... “Are you fucking crazy?” 

In lieu of answering, Novak shrugged and took out a tape measure. Dean eyed the gator with trepidation. He’d heard about alligator attacks, but thankfully, he’d never seen one in person. Now was not the time he wanted to make the news. With the grace of a gymnast, Novak jumped off, scooped up his bag, and grinned at Dean, like it was all a big joke to him. 

“Not at all. I just know what I’m doing. This one is done. Shall we move on?” 

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again. _ Crocodile Dundee _ , that was the dude... wasn’t it? “Guess you think you’re Crocodile Dundee or something, but from now on, you wait for me . ” Did the creature move? _ Did Dean see it move _. Crap. 

They bickered all the way back to the boat and then it happened. Dean pulled rank on Novak and he watched in nervous fascination as the man unloaded on him. “Warden Winchester, I was given the authority by the US Fish and Wildlife Service to study the alligator population because of my experience and knowledge. I can assure you that I know what I’m doing. And for the record Crocodile Dundee was fictional character. If you want to compare me to anyone, I would prefer Steve Irwin. At least, he was a _ real _man. If you want to prove your dick is bigger than mine, I suggest we do it after my work is done.” 

Dean’s mind went south. Way south. That old adage about someone being sexy when they’re angry... yeah, that was Novak. Those blue eyes flashed and damn... And how big _ was _ his dick? By the way he filled out those cargo pants, it looked like he had a nice package. A package that Dean wanted to unwrap. So, in true Dean Winchester fashion, he let loose with a comeback. 

“Yeah, well you might not even have a dick by then. Some alligator might bite it off.” Damn it. He was never good at comebacks. Never. Sam always made fun of him. 

The rest of the afternoon wasn’t nearly as dramatic. Novak seemed to include him more and while the snide comments had ceased, the truce wasn’t an easy one. It wasn’t until Dean was turning the boat to head back in that Novak got testy again. “Where are you going? We still have all that shoreline over there,” he said, pointing to the northern side of the lake. 

“It’s five. Quitting time. I’m dirty, sweaty, and hungry. We will pick up where we left off tomorrow morning.” 

Novak opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, but snapped it shut quickly. “Very well.” 

Surprised he didn’t get an argument, Dean gave the man a grin and pushed the throttle forward. The roar of the engine was loud on the quiet lake and the boat seemed to fly over the surface. Novak proved he wasn’t a novice by leaning forward and bending his knees with every bounce. Spray hit Dean’s face and he glanced over to see Novak staring at him, his expression unreadable. He shouted to be heard over the motor. “What?” 

The other man shook his head and looked away. Dean shrugged and slowed the boat as they neared the ramp. At the dock, he edged close. “Can you help with trailering her?” 

“Sure.” Dean climbed out and Novak took his place at the wheel. While Dean jogged over to the truck, Novak reversed the engine and put the boat in position. It took all of ten minutes to get her out of water and onto the trailer. 

Inside the cab of the truck, Dean told dispatch he was back on dry land and heading home. He turned to Novak. “How long have you been doing this kind of stuff?” 

“What? The tagging?” 

“Yeah, and teaching... you teach, right?” 

“I began going on trips like this while I was in college. The Nile, the Amazon, the Everglades. When I finished my Masters, I got to lead a few studies and got a job at Boston U. I finished up my PhD there. Florida offered me head of the zoology department and I took it, now I get called on to do studies for both state and federal. What about you? How long have you been a game warden?” 

Dean flipped on his turn signal and stopped at the light. “I did a stint in the Army when I got out of high school. Dad thought it would be _ good _ for me.” His father had insisted on it. Dean had goofed off and his grades weren’t that great. Sam was the smart one. He had been valedictorian of his class, got a full ride to Stanford, and got a degree in journalism. Now, he had a spot on the evening news and was a local celebrity. “I was stationed at Camp Zama, Japan for my whole tour. I missed home, so after my four, I got out. My military police training came in handy and I went through the school and,” he shrugged, “I’ve been doing this ever since.” 

Silence filled the cab and Dean looked sideways. Novak was staring back at him. “My life in a nutshell. So, any Mrs. Novak back home? Little Novaks?” Yes, he was curious. Sue him. 

“Single. No kids. You?” 

“Happily single,” Dean replied. Because he was, wasn’t he? 

What started as a bad day ended on a somewhat peaceful note. The ride across the lake was an experience. He’d seen Dean’s smile for the first time. A genuine smile that lit the universe. He couldn’t help staring at Dean -- because in his mind, he was Dean now, not the game warden, not Winchester. Dean had caught him staring once, but Castiel had blown it off, using the sound of the engines to deter conversation. An attraction wasn’t in the plans. Three weeks in and out. No attachments of any kind. 

All through trailering the boat, Castiel was quiet, inwardly thinking about the handsome man. Was it his fault Dean didn’t like him? His family told him that he was stuffy and lacked social skills. Dean _ had _ been openly hostile yesterday. Then, the enigma that was Dean Winchester had fixed lunch for the two of them, had brought coffee, and as the afternoon had worn on, assisted in tagging the alligators without complaint. 

He’d been surprised at Dean’s questions and even more surprised when Dean responded to his own without sarcasm. No, Castiel wasn’t good in most social situations, but it had allowed him to hone his skill at reading people. Chief Winchester and Dean might not be close. It didn’t sound as if they were. He’d never met the elder Winchester, but Dean’s words ‘_ Dad thought it would be good for me’ _bothered Castiel for some untold reason. 

At the hotel, Dean told him his equipment case would be safe for the night, so he wouldn’t have to lug it back and forth to his room. It was appreciated and all he took from the truck was his notebook and laptop. “I will see you in the morning, Dean.” 

“Yeah, same time. Night, Novak.” Castiel lifted his hand in a wave and headed inside. He was covered in filth, sweaty, and was in dire need of a shower. He set down his laptop and sighed as his stomach growled. Without a rental, he would have to walk somewhere to get food, or have something delivered. The per diem rate from the government would cover a car, but he’d have to Uber to the nearest one and that would be a hassle. It was something to think about though. He was here for three weeks and might want to see the sights on Dean’s days off. 

He pulled off his shirt, sniffed it, and grimaced. Thankfully, the motel had a laundry on the premises. He was about to turn on the shower when there was a knock on his door. Frowning, he looked out the peephole and there stood Dean. Forgetting he was half dressed, he opened it. Dean’s eyes widened and traveled down to his unbuttoned pants, then back up again. “Uh...” He thrust a bag into Castiel’s hands. “Dinner.” 

The man backed away and all but ran down the hall. Weird. “Thank you,” Castiel said to the empty space. 

Castiel’s olfactory system sent a quick message to his stomach and he moaned. The smell coming from the bag was heavenly. Wanting to eat whatever it was while it was hot, he sat at the room’s small table and opened Dean’s precious gift. The foil wrapped burger was perfect, though he did pick off the onions. The fries were thick and obviously homemade. 

He took a bite and groaned. Using the little finger of his left hand, he pushed the bag around. Harvelle’s Roadhouse was stamped in red on the side of the bag. Whoever this Harvelle was, they were a genius. 

It was only after the hot water was sluicing over his tired back that Castiel thought about Dean. He’d thought to bring him food. Had they turned a corner in their work relationship? Castiel vowed to try harder. With a soft smile touching his lips, he finished his shower. He could allow a working friendship with Dean. 

Morning came too early and he dressed quickly. In the lobby, he drank a free cup of coffee and then filled his cargo pockets with extra creamers and sugars. He was ready and waiting when Dean’s truck pulled into the parking lot. 

“Thank you for dinner last night, Dean. It was very thoughtful and I enjoyed it,” he said as he settled into the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome. I figured you’d be hungry and remembered you didn’t have a car to get around. What’s up with that? The government too cheap to give you one?” 

“No, I get enough for a rental, but just haven’t had time yet. I will probably go get one on your day off.” 

“Why my day off?” Dean looked at him blankly. 

“I will take the same days, so that your chief doesn’t have to assign another person to make sure I don’t get eaten,” Castiel said with a sly smile. 

Dean burst out laughing. “Yeah, well, the chief assigned you the best game warden in the state, so...” Dean drew out the last word and Castiel smiled. 

Castiel’s eyes lit on the cooler. “Did you make us lunch again?” 

“We gotta eat,” Dean said dismissively. 

“I will pay you for my share,” Castiel told him, reaching into his laptop bag for his wallet. 

“Shudup,” Dean mumbled. “You can buy me a six-pack sometime and we’ll call it square.” Castiel hid his smile by looking out the side window. His first impression of Dean was wrong. _ All wrong _. He was a complex creature and Castiel wanted to take the time to study him further. 

They settled into a routine over the next few days. Dean had watched him load up his coffee with creamer and sugar, so the next morning, it was perfect and had been ever since. They ate lunch on the boat and talked about movies and books. By Saturday evening, they’d tagged over thirty alligators. 

On the way back to the motel, Dean always stopped somewhere so Castiel could get something to eat. Dean never got himself anything, always saying he had food at his house. Castiel didn’t fault Dean for wanting time away from him, after all eight or nine hours in someone’s presence was usually enough. Sitting alone in his room though, Castiel thought he wouldn’t mind spending more time with the puzzle that was Dean Winchester. 

This night was no different. He stopped the truck in front of a grocery store. “This place has a good deli. Their fried chicken is awesome.” 

They got strange looks as they walked in with muddy clothing. Dean’s gun belt was slung low on his right hip and Castiel knew they both reeked of swamp. Dean gave the older woman behind the counter a flirtatious grin. “We’ll have the eight-piece dinner. Mashed potatoes okay with you, Cas?” Without waiting for Castiel’s answer, Dean plowed on. “And biscuits... four should be plenty. Maybe a vegetable for the growing boy here...” He pointed his thumb in Castiel’s direction. “Green beans... yeah, that should do it.” 

As the woman bustled around getting his order ready, Castiel leaned into Dean’s personal space and whispered, “Dean that’s a lot of food for me. I don’t think...” 

“It’s dinner for two, buddy. I’ve been craving fried chicken all day. They say alligator tastes like chicken. Ever tried it?” Castiel was still trying to wrap his head around that fact that Dean might be suggesting that they eat together. When Castiel didn’t answer his question right away, Dean’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, shit, guess eating them would be like a bad thing for you, huh?” 

“What? Uhm, no. I have tried it. It’s good, but more like frog’s legs than chicken.” 

“Frog’s legs... eww, dude. That’s gross, man.” 

“But eating a creature whose ancestors date back to the Mesozoic Era is more acceptable?” 

They were interrupted when the woman handed Dean a large plastic bag containing their meal. Dean led them down the drink aisle and he pushed a six-pack of Shiner Bock into Castiel’s hands. He took the beer and moved further down the aisle to look over the assorted soft drinks when he heard someone talking to Dean. He looked over where Dean stood frozen, his tanned face suddenly pale. Then he smiled, but it was a parody of what Castiel normally saw. 

“Dean, it’s been a long time,” said a slim man. He was a few inches shorter than Dean, dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. “Must have been a rough day, huh?” He indicated Dean’s dirty uniform. 

“Aaron... hey, how have you been?” 

“Fine... no, not really. I’ve missed you.” Castiel cut his eyes back to the shelf in front of him like the cans of root beer held the oracle of life. 

“You were the one that left,” Dean said so softly that Castiel wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. 

“I know. And not a day goes by that I don’t regret it, babe. It was just... I wanted to move it to the next level and you didn’t. Instead of waiting on you, I bolted. I was stupid.” _ Babe _? The enigma that was Dean Winchester just got a little bigger. 

“Aaron, look...” 

“No, please, give me another chance. We were good together, weren’t we?” Castiel caught the trapped look in Dean’s expression. It might not have been his smartest decision, but he was making it on the fly. Dean could get mad at him later. 

“Darling, should we get something sweet for after dinner?” He moved close to Dean and rested his hand on Dean’s hip possessively. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” He indicated the six-pack by lifting it and smiled ruefully. “I’d shake your hand, but...” 

The man, Aaron, looked from Castiel to Dean and back again. “No, that’s okay. I was just catching up with Dean. Name’s Aaron. We’re... old friends.” The man’s expression was a mixture of hurt, and perhaps anger. 

“Really?” Castiel gave the man an innocent look. “Dean’s never mentioned you.” He turned a brilliant smile in Dean’s direction. “We should get going, Sweet Cheeks. Don’t want our dinner to get cold.” To Aaron, he said, “It was so nice to meet you.” Castiel moved his hand to Dean’s back and gently pushed him down the aisle, leaving the other man standing in the aisle alone. Castiel noted that Dean hadn’t said goodbye to his ex. _ His ex. _

“Sweet Cheeks?” Dean said as they rounded the endcap stacked with the toilet paper that was on sale. 

“I’m sorry, you looked like...” Castiel stopped. 

“I needed rescuing?” Dean said, his head bowed. 

“If I was mistaken, I humbly apologize, and I can go back and tell your ‘friend’ I was joking around.” Castiel stopped, ready to do whatever Dean needed him to do. 

“No. It’s fine,” Dean said softly and stepped into the line for the register. Castiel set the beer on the conveyor belt and took the bag from Dean, setting it beside it. Dean didn’t protest when Castiel gave the clerk his debit card. He didn’t speak when Castiel picked up both items and walked beside him to the truck. He didn’t say anything as he drove to the motel. Castiel worried his lower lip. He wasn’t good at social interactions and he’d acted on impulse. 

“Dean, I’m sorry if I overstepped.” 

“You did great, Cas.” _ Cas _. There it was again. The shortened version of his name that he’d always hated until Dean started using it. He stopped the truck, engine idling quietly. He didn’t look at Castiel. “I’m not really hungry, so you have something for lunch tomorrow. Remember, Sunday and Monday are my days off.” 

“Dean...” 

“Night, Cas.” 

Not wanting to push Dean, he gathered his laptop bag and slung it over his shoulder, before gathering the groceries. “Goodnight, Dean.” He closed the door and made his way to his room, mind turning over and over. 

He’d found that his appetite had waned as well, so he stowed everything in the small refrigerator that came with the room and sat down at the table, head in his hands. He’d thought Dean was straight as an arrow. Had Dean been in love with that man? Who in their right mind would leave Dean? The next level? What was the next level? Four beers later, Castiel still didn’t have any answers for his questions. 


	3. Chapter 3

_She pushed through the underbrush, the smell of prey driving her away from her usual hunting grounds. The boundar _ _ y _ _ i _ _ sn’t _ _ a d _ _ ete _ _ rrent, the barbs barely scratching through her thick hide. Her instincts drove her forward and into the shallow pond that served as the drinking water for the prey. They were large and slow. She took one, tossed it aside and took another... then another. It wasn’t about food. Something in her changed. _

Working with Cas wasn’t as bad as he thought. Once they got over the whose cock was bigger -- and no, they didn’t whip them out, it was a euphemism – Cas wasn’t that bad. He taught Dean things without making it seem like he was superior. He had a dry sense of humor and strangely enough, had an appreciation of classic cars. 

Going back to his house nightly after dropping Cas off at his hotel wasn’t sitting well, so Saturday night Dean decided invite himself to dinner in Cas’ room. The dude had to be kind of lonely being in a strange city and not knowing anyone. 

Dean pulled the truck into his favorite grocery store and dragged Cas in with him. All was good until _ it _ happened. It being the awkward situation of running into an ex. That in itself, wouldn’t have been an issue, but this ex happened to be Aaron. Call Dean sexist, but he didn’t date men. He wasn’t sexist, far from it, he was just scared as fuck that his father would find out he liked dick and that would be the end of their usually rocky relationship. He could take a woman out, be seen in public, and not have to worry that someone who knew his father would see them. 

Dating Aaron had broken the rules. He was smart and funny. He’d said he was fine with staying in at Dean’s place. After a month of non-dating, Aaron started making noise about labels and coming out. Dean always changed the subject. Then six weeks in, Aaron came to spend the weekend and they’d argued. Aaron unceremoniously broke up with him, and left. End of story. 

Dean wasn’t heartbroken, but he’d liked Aaron. Really liked spending time with him and he’d been faithful to him. He vowed never to get involved with another man. When he wanted to be held down and fucked senseless, he could pick up a guy, have fun, and kiss him goodbye. 

No, it wasn’t seeing his ex that threw him for a loop, it was Cas finding out he was bi. Cas would have to report to his father eventually. He might let something slip, or worst-case scenario, Cas wouldn’t want to work with him anymore and request a new warden to help him find alligators. His father would ask why and Dean would... well, he didn’t know what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty. 

Add to it that Cas decided to _ save _ him. If the night couldn’t get any worse. He floundered and ran. Now, he was home alone with a bottle of Jack and some cold pizza that wasn’t sitting well in his stomach. 

He wanted to think Cas wouldn’t judge him, but humans stopped surprising him a long time ago. The cruelty in the world defied logic. 

Waking on his couch, Dean winced at the sun streaming through the windows. The half empty bottle of Jack was on the rug, and thankfully, he’d been sober enough to put the cap back on. He groaned and sat up, running his fingers through his short, brown hair. Running a tongue over his teeth, he grimaced. It was like something had taken a shit in his mouth. 

His phone rang as he stepped out of the much-needed shower. Wet and naked, he answered. “Hey, Sammy. We still on for lunch?” 

“Sure. Harvelle’s?” 

“Is there any place else?” 

“See you there at noon.” Dean glanced at the time on his phone. He had an hour. 

His brother was already seated at a corner table. Dean waved to Ellen and mimicked a drinking motion. She nodded as he sat down. “What’s new?” 

“I’m working on a story about the benefits of CBD oil. I’m wondering if we are ever going to see it legalized in Texas. I’m hoping to get some of our representatives to pay attention to how it is helping with PTSD, seizures, cancer pain...” 

“You really think the right-wing politicians of Texas would listen to anything progressive that helped people? Yeah, good luck with that.” Ellen set a beer on the table in front of him and ruffled his hair. 

“How did your friend like the burger?” 

“He liked it,” Dean said shortly. He didn’t want to talk about Cas right now. Cas was persona non grata at this point in time. 

“Well, tell him to come see us sometime,” she said and headed back to the bar to wait on a customer. 

“I talked to Dad yesterday,” Sam said conversationally. It was never good when he led with something like that. Dean prepared himself. 

“I saw him late last week. He looked good. Wonder when he’s going to retire and go fishing?” 

Sam laughed. “He’s going to die at that desk. Retirement is a dirty word, man.” Dean laughed at the true statement. “So, he told me you were helping out Castiel Novak.” 

“And...” 

“Dean, he’s pretty famous.” Sam was leaning over the table now. “He’s the leading expert in reptiles... in the country.” 

“And you know this how? I didn’t take you for a spiders and snakes guy.” 

“Spiders are arachnoids, Dean,” Sam stated dryly. 

“Eight legs... I know that. I was quoting the song... never mind...” Ellen slid two plates onto the table. Dean grinned down at his burger. She always remembered he liked both onion rings and French fries. 

“So, get this. I told my station manager that he was in town and he’s going to let me interview him.” 

Dean stopped mid-chew and blinked back at his brother. “Why?” 

“Because he’s an expert in reptiles.” Sam was giving him Bitch Face Number Thirty-Two, which translated to ‘_ Can you not understand anything _?’ “Did you know he turned down a job at the San Diego Zoo because he wanted to continue teaching?” 

Dean shook his head. Yeah, Cas was a stand-up guy, alright. He wouldn’t out Dean, would he? Maybe he should just talk to the guy, explain the situation. Tell him Aaron was a mistake. He didn’t date guys. He’d be reasonable. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Dean bit into his burger and nodded. “Suf then, Samif,” he said with a full mouth. 

“So?” 

Once again, Dean found himself blinking stupidly. What had he missed? Sam huffed and threw a fry at him. “I asked if you would set me up with him.” 

Dean smirked. “Like a date? I don’t think he swings that way, Sammy.” 

“No, dumbass, like an interview. Look, I will come to him.” He leaned forward again, that excited puppy expression right in Dean’s face. “Better yet, I’ll clear it with Dad to do a ride along.” He sat back. “Perfect.” 

“No.” 

“What? What do you mean no?” 

“I mean _ no _. N. O. Negative. Negatory. Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “What we do is dangerous, Sam.” 

“Give me a break, Dean. If it was only you out there chasing alligators, I’d decline, but this is Castiel Novak. He’s traveled the Amazon and the Nile. The Nile, Dean. They grow crocodiles pretty damn big and mean over there. I’d feel safe with him.” 

“I wear a gun, Sam,” Dean retorted, his feelings a little hurt. Sam never mentioned riding along with him until Novak showed up. 

“I’m asking Dad,” Sam said with finality. 

“Fine.” His life couldn’t get any worse. He quickly sent up a prayer begging forgiveness for that stupid thought. 

Castiel spent Sunday and Monday exploring Houston. The zoo was nice and he spent some time behind the scenes with their senior vet, Timothy Cain. The compact rental made him miss his classic Corvette convertible even more, but it was transportation and he shouldn’t complain. Dean stayed on his mind and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Dean being gay, bisexual, or any other orientation didn’t affect him one way or another. He was in Texas to do a job, not to make friends, and definitely not to find a lover. Their working relationship had grown warmer and Castiel was grateful for that, but beyond? Well, Houston and everything in it would be left behind in two more weeks. 

By Monday night, he’d done laundry and all the recording for his report was logged in and updated. He turned the television on to PBS and found _ Antiques Roadshow _. 

With his newfound freedom of a car, Castiel had stopped by the grocery store and bought provisions. He had bottled water, granola bars, fresh fruit, and chocolate to add to the lunches that Dean brought. Now, he stood at the motel’s main entrance with his messenger bag and a cloth shopping bag full of snacks. 

Dean pulled up one minute early. Castiel was unsure of the reception he’d receive after Saturday’s debacle, so he smiled and said, “Good morning, Dean.” You can’t go wrong with a nice salutation. 

“Morning,” Dean said, his eyes forward. He looked like he didn’t want to talk, so Castiel could work with that. He’d miss the Dean he’d come to know, but he did have a job to do. He settled the bag of snacks on the floorboard between his feet and buckled up. “Where to today?” 

Castiel, prepared for the question, showed him the map of Lake Houston on his phone. “I think we should take the northeastern shore starting here,” he said, pointing to Luce Bayou. Dean nodded and told his dispatcher where they were headed. 

The drive took them almost an hour and Castiel was content to watch the scenery. They’d turned onto the road for the boat ramp when Dean’s radio crackled to life. “_ 21-19, this is County Base. Do you copy? _” 

“21-19 County. Go ahead.” 

“_ What is your location? _” 

“Huffman Cleveland Road, near the boat ramp,” Dean replied. 

“_ We have a report of an animal attack on cattle.. _ .” Castiel listened as she gave an address. “ _ Please investigate. _” 

“Ten-four,” Dean said and hung up his mic. “Looks like we are making a detour.” 

“Are animal attacks to livestock in your jurisdiction?” 

“Most times, yeah. It might be wild dogs, but it could be coyotes or cougars. If it_ i _ _ s _ wildlife killing cattle, it’s on us to find out and fix the problem.” 

The farm turned out to be ten minutes down the road. Dean pulled off onto a rutted driveway. The home itself wasn’t big and Dean parked behind a late model pickup. “I’ll stay here,” Castiel said, not wanting to get in Dean’s way. Dean nodded and slammed the door shut. He watched as a man answered Dean’s knock. They talked for a few minutes, the man pointed to a gate, and Dean returned to the truck. 

“He’s got a pond in one of his pastures and he’s got four head that have been ripped apart. We’re going to follow him out there.” 

The owner’s pickup drove through the gate and Dean pulled through behind him. He stopped and looked at Castiel. “Passenger closes the gate.” Castiel lifted an eyebrow, but did as he’d been told. The trucks bounced across a huge pasture, past a herd of cattle that watched them drive by, then Castiel saw a pond in the distance with the carcasses sprawled out near the bank. 

Dean got out of the truck and walked over to meet the owner. Something about the state of the creatures piqued Castiel’s curiosity and he exited the vehicle too. Dean looked up, but continued his own investigation. He narrowed his eyes at the bite marks on one of the animal’s hindquarters, then moved to the bank and stared at the mud. What he saw chilled him. “Dean. A word.” 

“Excuse me,” Dean told the rancher and walked to where Castiel was bent over studying a nearby by a track in the mud. “What is it?” 

Castiel glanced at the owner, but he was leaning on his truck. To Dean, he said in a low voice, “I’m afraid we have a problem. Look at this.” He pointed. 

“What am I looking at?” Dean peered down at the track with a quizzical expression. 

“That is an alligator track. I’m only guessing, but I believe we are looking at one over twenty-five feet long. And those bites, Dean... an alligator did this.” 

Dean laughed softly. “Dude, Big Tex is only thirteen feet long and he holds the record for Texas. I know you’re an expert and all, but seriously? Twenty-five feet? I’m not buying it. I’m leaning toward a...” 

“Dean, damn it, I _ am _ an expert. I don’t give a fuck about _ Big _ _ Tex _ or whatever that is, I’m telling you, this was done by an alligator. A big one.” Their eyes locked and held. Castiel could almost see Dean processing the information. Then Dean’s gaze shifted to the pond. 

“Think it’s in there?” 

“No, it’s not deep enough. We would be able to see him.” Castiel let his eyes roam the area and walked swiftly toward some underbrush. “How far is the lake from here? Or a river?” 

Dean jogged over to him. “The lake is about a mile that way,” he said pointing west. “But this is Luce Bayou. There are lots of streams, creeks, and small rivers around here.” He took his ball cap off and scratched his head. “We’ll have to report this. Are you one hundred percent positive, Cas?” 

“One hundred percent,” Castiel answered. His mind was racing. The biggest alligator in the U.S. was estimated to be a little over fourteen feet. How had one this size remained undetected? Furthermore, it seemed to have killed for the hell of it, not for food. Sure, a few chunks of meat were missing from the carcasses, but most alligators would have taken one into the water and fed off it. Without a word to Dean, he ran back to the truck. He pulled himself into the boat and rummaged through his equipment case until he found the casting kit. Dean had followed him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to cast the print and send it to a few colleagues.” He tossed Dean his digital camera. “Take pictures of the site. I want close ups of the bite marks and overall shots of the entire area.” 

Surprisingly, Dean didn’t argue with him, while Castiel mixed the plaster for the footprint. The cast would be lifted, measured, and photographed. 

In the truck thirty minutes later, Dean broke the silence. “I’ll need to call this in.” 

“We need to alert the public, Dean. This alligator killed for no reason. It could be a danger to anyone who lives in the area... house pets, livestock, and yes, humans.” 

Dean released a long exhale. “Let’s go see my dad.” 

John Winchester didn’t look happy to see them. He stared over his desk, hands clasped. “Has there been a problem with my... Warden Winchester... or...” 

“None whatsoever, Chief Winchester. This is about a serious matter.” The chief looked at him and then his son, and back again. 

“Okay, talk.” 

Castiel told him what he suspected, pulled the cast out of his messenger back, and showed him the pictures on his camera. “This is a rogue alligator and needs to be found before it kills more livestock or possibly a human.” 

To his shocked dismay, the chief laughed. Castiel looked at him incredulously. When the man pulled himself together, he said, “I’m sorry, but you’re trying to tell me that a giant alligator is going to start eating people. Here? In Texas? Mr. Novak, this isn’t a Hollywood movie set. What was that movie, Dean, I know you’ve probably seen it? About the giant gator...” 

“Lake Placid,” Dean mumbled beside him, his eyes downcast. 

“Yeah, that’s it. With Betty White. She was a pistol, wasn’t she?” The jovial smile disappeared and he met Castiel’s eyes. “Son, why don’t you go back to tagging gators and leave the rest to us.” To Dean, he said, “Warden, give your report to Fitzgerald and finish this up, so the professor here can get back to Florida.” 

Dean tugged his arm, but Castiel held his ground. “We have to find this alligator. You don’t seem to understand the seriousness of this, Chief.” 

John Winchester narrowed his gaze. “What I understand is that you were sent here to count alligators. Period.” He dismissed them by turning back to his computer screen. Castiel was fuming, but he allowed Dean to lead him from the room. 

“Cas, hey, come on...” Castiel remained silent as Dean gave his report to the secretary. “This goes to Garth, and just tell him to call me if he needs any more info.” 

Once more in the truck, Dean spoke again. “Look, Cas... I know you think...” 

“I don’t _ think _ anything, Dean. I _ know _ that a rogue alligator is out there somewhere and we’ve just seen the tip of the iceberg.” 

“What do you want to do?” His voice sounded tired and Castiel put aside his anger to face him. He had dark circles under his eyes and his lips were drawn in a pinched line. 

“I want to find this thing, Dean. I want to warn people.” 

Dean nibbled on his lower lip for a few seconds and then spoke again. “I have an idea. My brother, Sam, works for a local network. He’s a reporter.” 

“Would he listen to me?” 

“He fanboyed when he found out you were here. He’d probably kiss your feet if you wanted.” Dean shook his head. “He wanted me to ask you for an interview.” 

“Call him.” 

While Dean talked to his brother, Castiel realized neither of them had brought up their awkward night. Castiel was okay with leaving it alone. Right now, he had bigger things to think about than Dean’s sexuality. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a gruesome scene of an animal being eaten. The collage at the end has a graphic photo of that scene. If you are squeamish, skip the photo.

_Her tail propelled her through the water. She smelled the musk in the air. As she neared the shallows, her movement slowed and she surfaced. Unblinking eyes saw the deer, its head down, drinking. There was a blur. It was over in an instant. The animal had squealed before it was pulled under the water. Strong jaws held it until the thrashing stopped. It watched as the body floated away. She wasn’t hungry, but she wasn’t satisfied. _ _ The ancient beast moved on. _

Dean’s days off were spent going over scenarios in his head. He had mental scripts thought out if Cas brought up the subject of Aaron. Dean would never bring it up. That just wasn’t going to happen. He could push shit under the rug with the best of them. 

Lucky for him, Cas didn’t get a chance to bring it up. The call about the mutilated cattle took up most of their morning and Cas’ theory about a giant gator had him torn between wanting to believe the expert but knowing it couldn’t be possible. And don’t get him started about Cas standing toe to toe with the great John Winchester. It was hot as fuck seeing Cas pissed at someone besides him. Dean, himself, didn’t put on a good show If anything, he acted like a kicked dog. He hated how his father could reduce him to a scared little boy with one look. 

He knew getting Sam involved would really piss off his dad, but if Cas was right, it was his duty to track it down and kill it. 

They met Sam at a small barbeque restaurant and his brother was almost giddy with excitement. It was embarrassing the way he was gushing over Cas. Finally, he had had enough. “Sam, you can tell Cas all about your pet turtle later, we’ve got something important to talk to you about.” 

Sam stopped mid-sentence and glared at Dean. “I’m sorry you had to be paired with my brother, Doctor Novak. Sometimes he’s just... rude.” 

“Dean is sometimes rough around the edges, but I have enjoyed his company. And please, it’s Castiel.” Dean noted the way he’d used his full name with Sam. Though he’d never commented on it, he didn’t seem to mind Dean’s nickname for him. 

“So, what’s this about? Dean said it was important that you met with me.” 

Cas looked at Dean for a moment and Dean gave him a slight nod. Those baby blues turned to Sam. “This morning, Dean was called out for an animal attack on some cattle. When we got there, Dean assumed it was from a cougar or maybe feral dogs, but after inspecting the remains, I concluded that the bite radius was that of an extremely large alligator. I found the tracks and I am guessing the creature is over twenty feet in length.” 

Sam laughed and then when he looked at their faces, he stopped. “You aren’t joking. Dean didn’t put you up to this?” 

“No. The size alone is cause for concern, but it killed for sport. I’ve seen this in crocodiles in Africa, but never here, Sam.” Sitting back, Sam exhaled, his eyes never leaving Cas’. To push him over into the belief side of things, Cas added, “I would stake my profession reputation on this.” 

Sam nodded and turned to Dean. “What do you have planned?” 

“Me? Shit, Sam, Cas tried to tell Dad and he blew him off. I’m a little out of my element here.” 

“We have to track it down. In my perfect world, I’d love to trap it and study it, but at that size, it would be impossible,” Cas said, his tone even. How did he do that? Dean was about to shit his pants. He’d watched Lake Placid. People got eaten. 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I don’t want to cause panic, but the public needs to be warned.” 

“Can you take me on a ride-along?” Sam asked him and Dean just shrugged. Ride-alongs were fine provided they as they were cleared with District Command. 

“We need to ask Dad.” 

“If we tell him why, he’ll nix it,” Sam lamented. “So, I can tell him I want to interview Castiel about the alligator population in the Houston area.” 

They talked a few minutes longer and then Sam left to get his story coordinator to call Chief Winchester. Once he was gone, the two men sat across the table from each other, eyes locked in some sort of weird staring contest. Dean looked away first. “So, you’re staking your reputation on this, huh?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then how can you be so fucking calm? If what you say is true, there’s a giant alligator out there that gets his jollies by killing... things.” Dean didn’t want to imagine if those cattle turned into people. 

It took two days for Sam to be cleared to join Cas and Dean. While they waited, they took to the water around where the cattle were killed. Cas found more tracks, but no sign of the alligator. How could something that big disappear? Then Dean looked out over the lake and knew the answer. The reservoir was eighteen square miles of surface area and was forty-five feet deep in some places. That wasn’t counting all the tributaries that fed into the lake. There were miles of deep-water sloughs. 

During that time, Cas never asked about Aaron. He was all business. He took water samples, measured tracks, and took photos, their job of tagging now forgotten. 

In the evenings, in Cas’ hotel room, they studied social media and news channels for reports of missing pets, livestock, and people. Most of the reports could be explained away because they weren’t near bodies of water. A few needed to be investigated. 

Sam met Dean at his house Friday morning. He strolled in while Dean was fixing his and Cas’ coffee. “Thanks,” he said, reaching for one. 

Dean slapped his hand away. “That’s Cas’.” He reached into the cabinet and pulled out another mug. “Fix your own.” 

He could feel Sam’s stare boring into the back of his head. “Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” Sam picked up the coffeepot and poured some into his mug. “Notice that you call him Cas? Or maybe that you fix him coffee? Or maybe that you stare at him a lot when you think no one is looking?” 

“I call him Cas because it’s easier to say and I fix him coffee because his motel serves tar in a coffee costume.” He refused to expound on the third part. 

“Uh, huh,” Sam mumbled. Dean glared at him. He snatched his keys, phone, and wallet from the table by the door, then returned to the kitchen for the coffee. 

“You coming?” Sam smirked and followed him out the door. 

“He isn’t like anyone you’ve dated before. He’s smart, has a great career, and is kind of hot for a guy. Like male model hot.” 

“We are not _ dating _. We work together. That’s it.” And even if Cas was gay or bi or liked dick in any size, shape, or form, he wouldn’t be interested in Dean anyway. Because of those very reasons Sam listed. “And besides, you know I don’t date men.” Memories of Aaron bled into his thoughts. Dating men led to problems Dean couldn’t afford. 

“Dean...” 

“Nope. Not discussing this. Not now. Not ever.” He saw Sam’s pitying look but chose to ignore it. 

“Turn here,” Sam said, pointing. 

“Why?” Dean looked around at the small apartment complex. 

“We need to pick up Ed, my cameraman.” Dean hadn’t thought about Sam needing a camera crew. “Over there,” Sam pointed and Dean followed his finger to see a man standing by a painfully ugly mini-van. The dude had a beard and horn-rimmed glasses, and was dressed in a Ghostbusters t-shirt and faded jeans. In his hands was a video camera that probably cost more than what Dean made in a year. 

“Uh, okay,” Dean said, pulling up to a stop beside the man. “Let me clear out the backseat.” 

Dean got out of the truck, tossed the guy a half-hearted wave, and opened the back door of the cab. He stared at the M-16. Sighing, he took it out and secured it in the locked toolbox in the bed of his truck. He shoved his foul-weather gear under the seat and deemed it clean enough for passengers. 

“Morning, Sam. We ready to rock and roll?” The cameraman pushed his fist out for Dean to bump. Dean stared at it for a few seconds, shook his head, and took his seat behind the wheel. 

Once Dean had left his hotel, Castiel did more research. He touched base with a few other professionals in his field, emailing them pictures of the kills and the cast of the track. Two agreed with him, one thought he was nuts. 

He was putting his reputation on the line by pursuing this, but everything screamed that there was an extremely large and extraordinarily savage alligator out there. 

When his alarm sounded, he’d only gotten about three hours of sleep. Every time he’d closed his eyes, his mind spun like a windmill in a hurricane. What could he use to euthanize it? A well-placed shot could take it down, but aiming a gun at the small area on the back of its skull would take skill, and that was if the creature wasn’t moving. Alligators tended to react negatively to random shots. One that size... well, it would just piss it off. 

Poison was another alternative. Baiting a carcass laced with cyanide or strychnine would be fast-acting, but there is the problem of making sure the alligator got it and not wildlife or worse, someone’s family pet. 

Castiel was still deliberating his choices when Dean pulled up in his truck. He wasn’t alone. The only seat left was in the back with someone named Ed, a cameraman. After introductions were made, Dean pulled out into traffic. “Cas and I thought we’d start near the spot where the cattle were killed. We can move south along the shore until we get to the slough by Wildcat Lane.” Dean pointed to the map on his vehicle’s computer screen. 

“Why there?” Sam asked. 

“We’ve got reports of three dogs missing from that area. One wouldn’t be a red flag, because dogs roam, but three in one small area... Cas and I thought it warranted a drive-by.” 

Once the boat was launched, the four men set out for the closest inlet to where the cattle were found. Castiel put on his waders and walked the bank while Dean trolled along about three feet from the shore. He was about to tell Dean they could move on to where the dogs went missing, but something caught his eye in the reeds. “Dean...” 

The warden knew from his tone something wasn’t right and he nudged the boat closer to where Castiel’s gaze had landed. “Holy shit,” the cameraman exclaimed. 

“Start filming,” Sam told him, standing to get a better view. “What is... was that?” 

Castiel was close enough to identify the thing submerged about a foot under the surface of the water. The deer was a large white-tail, but Castiel noted the bite pattern immediately. Once again, the animal wasn’t taken for food. Castiel’s eyes met Dean’s. “Can you tell how long it’s been here?” 

“The water isn’t overly cold and there is no sign of decomposition yet. This is only a guess, but less than five hours,” Castiel told him. He watched as Dean began scanning the water around them. 

“Cas, get in the boat.” 

“I’d like to process the bank for signs...” 

“Get in the Goddamn boat now,” Dean hissed through his clenched teeth. 

“Dean, we need to track its movement...” 

“Fuck...” Dean reached for his gun, a large assault-type weapon. “Sam, take the helm.” Dean moved to the bow of the boat and glared at Castiel. “Make it snappy, Cas.” 

From Castiel’s investigation, he noted that the deer must have come down to drink and the alligator had snatched it into the water. There were no tracks on the bank. Castiel let his own eyes scan the water around them. He felt a shiver move down his spine. 

After searching the surrounding area, Castiel found no other sign of the beast’s presence. Dean helped him into the boat and put the boat in gear. It was time to move on. 

The area where the dogs went missing was not wooded and several nice homes populated the shore. A few had swing sets and most were fenced. As they rode up and back down the slough, Sam asked Castiel questions. The afternoon wore on and Castiel found nothing else to indicate the alligator’s presence in the vicinity. With one more glance at a children’s playhouse, Castiel settled in for the ride back to the boat ramp. 

As they unloaded their equipment, Sam pulled Castiel aside. “I can’t report any of this until we have some sort of sighting. I know that you’re worried about this thing attacking people, but I will need proof. The last thing we need is panic or worse yet, a bunch of gun-toting rednecks shooting anything that moves. 

Castiel nodded his understanding. “We will keep searching.” Sam looked at Dean and then back to Castiel. Something unspoken was there, but Castiel couldn’t place it. 

Even though Castiel had been the last to be picked up, Dean dropped Ed off first, then Sam. On his way back to Castiel’s motel, they were both silent. When they reached the parking lot, Dean kept the engine going. “Grab a shower and I’ll be back in a few with dinner.” 

He was too tired to argue. In his room, he stripped and stepped under the warm spray. He rolled his head, enjoying the water pounding on his muscles. He emptied his mind and stood there for several minutes before shaking himself and washing both his hair and body. Castiel was drying his legs when someone knocked. With a sigh, he wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door. 

“Uh, yeah, so... dinner.” Dean held up a familiar red and white bucket of chicken. In his other hand was a brown paper bag. Castiel couldn’t help but notice how Dean’s eyes stayed fixed on his face. 

“Let me get dressed. Make yourself at home.” Dean nodded and entered the room. Castiel was aware that he wasn’t the best housekeeper. His clothing from yesterday was in a pile on the floor, the bed was unmade, and his suitcase looked like it exploded in one of the corners. He grabbed a pair of sweats and a worn t-shirt before closing the bathroom door behind him. 

The chicken was greasy, but filling. Castiel had narrowed his eyes when Dean pulled a bottle of tequila from the brown bag, along with a lime, and a container of margarita salt. “It’s not every day that I’m hunting a monster, Cas,” he’d said by way of explanation. He used his pocket knife to cut up the lime. 

“I suppose the alcohol will kill any germs we get from that,” Castiel said, nudging the slices with his forefinger. 

“A little dirt never hurt anyone,” Dean said with a grin. A grin that did something to Castiel’s stomach. Something that had nothing to do with the greasy meal. 

It had been many years since Castiel had shot tequila. Not since grad school if he wanted to guess. The burn made him cough and Dean cackled beside him. “Lightweight,” he declared, chugging down his own. The plastic cups supplied by the motel held more than was typical, but Dean didn’t seem to have any problem taking it all. _ Taking it all. _Castiel’s mind went straight to the gutter as he watched Dean’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. 

Three shots later, Castiel was transfixed by the open collar of Dean’s shirt. Christ, he saw more skin on any given day at the university. “So, how come a nice-looking guy like you isn’t with someone?” Dean asked out of the blue. They’d been watching a show on Food Network about the worst cooks in America. Castiel wasn’t great in the kitchen, but he knew more than those contestants. Castiel looked away from the disaster someone was making of a simple omelet. 

He shrugged. “Never found the right person. School came first, and then...” Castiel paused, afraid to open this conversation. He shouldn’t be. Dean wasn’t a homophobe. He had visual proof of that. “I dated a few men that I thought might be... the one, but...” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not a very exciting partner.” 

Dean scoffed loudly. “Not exciting... hell, I’ve seen you jump on an alligator’s back. You are the least boring person I know.” He was flushed from the alcohol and was slumped back against the headboard of Castiel’s bed. Castiel watched as understanding dawned on his face. “Men? You said men.” 

“I did.” 

“So, gay?” Dean tried to sit up, but failed and the back of his head thunked on the wood. Castiel winced for him. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m bi... I guess,” Dean said, his words slurring just the slightest. 

“I think I figured that out already,” Castiel said dryly, putting the cap back on the bottle. Neither of them needed any more tequila. 

Dean snorted. “Yeah, Aaron. God, what a disaster.” 

“It can be tricky meeting up with an ex,” Castiel lamented. 

“That part was bad, but dating him... _that_ was the disaster. He wanted to go out... in public... ya know?” Dean hiccoughed and began playing with the edge of the tacky bedspread. “I told him from the beginning that we could hang out at the house... and fuck around and shit, but dating... nope. Not in... ya see, Dad knows people around here. Fuck, he’s been a game warden for thirty years.” Dean’s words made Castiel’s blood run cold. 

“You aren’t out?” 

“Fuck, no. You’ve met my dad. Can you fucking imagine me telling him that I liked dick?” 

“I’m...” Castiel stopped. Coming out hadn’t been an issue for him. His parents didn’t care. They loved him regardless who he slept with. His mom did worry about never being a grandmother, and both worried about him in his early years when the world wasn’t as progressive. He was floundering about something to say when he heard the snore. Dean was asleep. He watched the man for a long time. The attraction was there, but self-preservation was a large part of Castiel’s life. He was forty-two years old. Random fucks weren’t in the cards. He wanted stability. Dean didn’t fill any of his boxes. He lived in another state and now, there was the proverbial closet. No, Dean Winchester wasn’t for him. It was better he figured that out now... before he woke to thoughts of him... before he jerked off in the shower thinking about Dean’s mouth on him... yes, before all that. He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a long breath. 

He shut off the television, cleaned up the mess, and crawled into the other bed. The sound of Dean’s steady breathing lulled him into his own fitful sleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between two back to back business trips, Thanksgiving, and two job interviews, I've been behind on my writing. Hopefully, everything is back to normal now. So, I apologize for keeping you waiting.
> 
> Just a fair warning, this chapter contains graphic description of a human death by alligator.

_ The waning moon didn’t bother her. She moved through the short grass under the cover of darkness. The pond smelled strange and when she lowered her body into the tepid water, she stopped, half submerged. It felt strange on her skin and it made her eyes burn. She didn’t like this. She had to move deeper to turn and her claws scrapped the smooth bottom. The noise made her pause again and she lifted her head, her nostrils flaring with the scent of the taboo prey. Man. Her enemy. The noises they made meant nothing to her, but the splash was a surprise. She saw the body, its legs and arms churning the water. She struck fast, blood clouding the  _ _ crystal clear _ _ water. The enemy screamed. Sudden light blinded her and she discarded the prey, leaving the water to seek the darkness and the safety of the night. _

The pounding in his head is what woke him. He groan ed and s tretched , while tryin g to focus scratchy eyes.  His phone began playing Led Zeppelin’s  _ Kashmir _ announcing an incoming call from his brother. He reached for it on his nightstand, but his hand came up empty. He blinked.  This wasn’t... his gaze found Cas’ body on the other bed. Blue eyes looked back at him, no hint of warmth, just irritation. “Can you please stop that... that  infernal  _ noise _ ?”

Dean spied his phone on the table across the room and stumbled over to it. He slid his finger up the screen to decline his brother’s call. He would return it as soon as his brain was firing on all cylinders. The silence was deafening. How much had he had to drink last night ? With a soft huff, Cas rolled over and seemingly drifted off again. So, _ he _ didn’t think it was weird that D e an  woke  up _ here. _ T h at made one of them. He stood still for a few moments to try to stop the room from spinning. He looked at his phone again. It was after nine. Blowing his exhale into his hairline, he stepped into the bathroom. 

The shirt and pants of his uniform were wrinkled badly from a night of sleep. He sniffed his underarms. Axe deodorant was a great product, he decided quickly.  He splashed some water on his face and muttered, “That’s good enough.”

Going back into the room, he sent another quick glance at Cas . If the snores were any indication, he was zonked out again. He found his boots and slid them on, not bothering to tie the laces. He shouldn’t feel guilty for leaving. He shouldn ’t have  drunk enough to pass out in his friend’s hotel room.  _ Friend _ ? Huh? Yeah, he supposed they’d grown closer. If circumstances were different, he’d love to get the guy naked and...

Shaking that image out of his head, he quietly opened the door to dark clouds and a light drizzle .  “Great,” he muttered. It might be respite from the heat for a little while, but Dean knew from years of experience, once the showers moved on, it would be hot and muggy. 

He’d send Cas a text later to apologize for passing out drunk in his room. On the drive home, he tried to remember the night. Tequila, confessions of his disastrous relationship with Aaron, Cas coming out to him... but in hindsight, he’d suspected. Dean had good gaydar. In Texas, if you wanted some dick, you better know who you were flirting with.

Cas... maybe after all this was over and they’d caught the giant man-eating relic from the stone age, he’d see if he wanted a quick roll in the hay before heading back to Florida. The worst that could happen would be if Cas said no. He looked in the rearview mirror and winked. Like that would happen. Dean could be charming when he set his mind to it.

At home, he shed the dirty uniform and gathered his laundry. While the machine agitated the first load, he sent a quick text to Cas.

** 10:09 a.m. To Cas: Sorry I passed out in your room. See you Tuesday. **

Then he called his brother. “What’s up, bitch?”

“Dad and Kate want us to have lunch with them today.”

“What? Why?” John Winchester had been dating Kate Milligan for about a year. She was nice enough, but not one for putting on family get-togethers. She had a son, Ad am,  who was going to Texas Tech for a degree in nursing. “And why didn’t he call me?”

“He said he left a message for you.” Dean pulled the phone from his ear and found the message from last night.  _ Shit _ .

“What time?”

“Noon, at Kate’s house. I think the kid is home.”

“Great, a nice family meal,” Dean said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Just be there.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye.”

“Bye, Dean.” Dean set his phone on the kitchen counter and set about making coffee. He wasn’t looking forward to pasting on a smile and playing the good son.

Kate lived in a gated community called Northgate Forest. It had a golf course and tennis courts. Dean suspected his father kept her around because of the greens. He’d taken up golfing a few years back. She answered the door at his knock. Sam’s car was already parked behind his dad’s truck. Kate’s car was most likely in the garage. A red motorcycle was on the walk. Dean eyed it. A Gold Wing. Must be nice, he thought snidely. Kate was a rich widow and spoiled the kid rot te n.

“Dean, I’m so glad you could come.” She took his arm and led him into the living room. “I made your father promise not to talk shop today. Please help him keep it.” There was an underlying tension radiating from her, but Dean wasn’t about to get in his dad’s business. Dean greeted everyone and Kate excused herself to finish lunch.

“Ho w’s  sch ool ? ” Dean asked Adam, not really caring about an answer. He listened as the younger man talked about his classes, girls, and the upcoming football season. He nodded and spoke at the proper places, all the while wishing he was at home watching movies on his big screen.

After lunch, Dean and Sam said their goodbyes and John walked them out to their cars.  The rain had slacked off, but the clouds were still gray and heavy.  “Thanks for coming. Kate’s been in some mood lately about  families and...”  His dad stopped and Dean was shocked to see how tired he looked.

“Everything okay, Dad?” Sam asked before Dean coul d ask  the same thing .

“Yes... Kate wants to get married.” Dean and Sam both stared at him with amazement. Dean truly believed John Winchester would love their mother until the day he died.

“And...” Sam prodded.

“Guess it’s time to fish or cut bait,” John said, his eyes staring off over the golf course. 

“Try not to sound so enthusiastic,” Dean replied and got a sharp look from Sam for his effort.

“You boys know how much your mother meant to me...” He trailed off again. 

“Do you love Kate?” Dean asked, shocking himself. The Winchester  men d idn’t do touchy-feely shit. 

John looked at him. “I’m not sure.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to marry her then,” Dean said with a shrug. Sam blinked stupidly at him.  _ What _ ? Like De a n couldn’t s h are words of wisdom?

John’s response was a warm hand squeezing Dean’s shoulder. “See you later, son. Sam, take care now.” They watched as John disappeared back into the house.

“That was... different,” Sam commented. Then he grinned at Dean. “When are you going to start your advice column ,  _ Dea _ _ n, Doctor of Love _ ** _ ? _ ** ”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dean muttered and slammed the Impala’s door. Sam was still laughing as he made his way to his own car.

It wasn’t until he was watching his fifth episode of the Great British Baking Show that Dean realized Cas never texted him back.

** 8:58 p.m. To Cas: What did you do on your day off? How do you feel ab ** ** out  ** ** b ** ** akewell ** ** tarts? ** ** I might experiment tomorrow and bring it for breakfast Tuesday. **

His phone dinged after a few minutes.

** 9:02 p.m. From Cas: I have no opinion on Bakewell tarts. **

Dean immediately started typing. 

** 9:03 p.m. To Cas: It’s a classic British dessert, Cas. Aren’t you impressed that I’m going to make one? **

The cute gay guy just won Star Baker and Dean waited to see who was being sent home before checking Cas’ next message.

** 9:06 p.m. From Cas: I know what a Bakewell tart is, Dean. I will be impressed if it tastes good.  **

Dean laughed.

** 9:07 p.m. To Cas: Just wait. Don’t have too much fun tomorrow. Night. **

** 9:08 p.m. From Cas: Goodnight, Dean. **

The next morning, Dean made his shopping list and when he got home from the store, he pulled up the recipe and began. The tart was beautiful and Dean grinned at it proudly, taking a picture to send to Cas later.

His uniforms were ironed for the week and he was  getting  ready to go to bed when his phone rang. Who would be calling him this late? He stared at the screen. Dad?

“Dean, there’s been an alligator attack. I need you to grab your expert and head to 451 Oak Point Road. The police are already on the scene,” his father’s voice said through the phone. 

“A person?” Dean asked the question, not wanting to hear the answer. 

“Yes, son. And Dean, the witness said it was almost as long as the pool. I want you and Novak on this.”

“Are they alive?”

“No,” came the short answer.

“I’m on my way.” Dean hung up and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to calm down. Cas’ gator killed someone. 

He jumped out of bed and grabbed one of the clean uniforms. He was strapping on his utility belt as he was running out the door. Inside the cab of his truck , hi s hea dlights cutting through the darkness, he called Cas. It rang four times before it was answered.

“Dean?”

“Cas, get dressed. I’ll be picking you up in...” He stared at the clock on his dash.  Dean didn’t get to use his light bar and siren very often, but if his dad wanted him at the scene, he needed to get there fast. He flipped the switches and pressed his foot on the accelerator. “Ten minutes.”

“What’s going on? What’s happened?” He pictured Cas throwing back that tacky bedspread and getting up. He’d have his concerned face on, brow furrowed, lips set in a straight line. 

“Your gator. It killed someone.” Dean’s admission was met with silence. He knew Cas was still there because he could hear his breathing. “Be there soon.” Dean tossed his phone on the seat beside him and raced to Cas’ hotel.

Dean screeched into the parking lot and Cas was waiting, his hair more of a bird’s nest than usual. Cas flung the door open and jumped in. “Go.”

Windshield wipers slapping at the light rain, siren blaring, Dean followed his GPS directions, while going ** ** well above the speed limit. Cas glared at  the screen of his  laptop. A moment later, he said, “Dean, that address is only a mile from where w e found th e deer ** . ** ** ” **

“Fuck,” Dean whispered under his breath. 

Several police cars and the coroner’s wagon were parked in the road surrounding the address. T heir strobes flashing red and blue on the house. T hey were met  on the front walk  by a deput y, who was looking kind of green. “Game warden,” Dean told him, not bothering with his ID. “What happened?” 

“Two kids, teens, decided to go for a swim in the pool. The boy jumped in and was...” The deputy grimaced and took a deep breath. “Shit, the girl said it was a monster. She’s inside with her parents. They own the house. They’d been up in Austin for a wedding. The kid’s in shock.” Dean thought the deputy wasn’t much better.

Cas  must have decided  protocol wasn’t necessary because he took off around t he house .  Dean had to jog to catch up.  The scene that greeted them wasn’t pretty.  Crime scene lights had been set up and the back yard was flooded with the bright glare.  The once clear pool was a rusty brown color and the coroner had a bloody sheet over the body, or what was left of it. Cas ripped it back to stare down at the thing that was once a teenaged boy. It had been bitten in half. “Christ,” Dean exclaimed, turning away from the carnage. 

“This was definitely our alligator,” Cas said.  Dean tried not to take offense to the term ‘our’. “The bite radius matches that from the cattle and the deer. I need to talk to the girl.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that. She’s a basket case.” Cas made eye contact with Dean and he nodded. If Cas needed to speak with the kid, he’d make sure it happened.

Katie Taylor was seated on the plush couch in the living room, her parents on either side of her. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes swollen from hours of crying . “ Mr ** . ** and  Mrs ** . ** Ta ylor, my name is Dean Winchester, I’m a game warden, and this is  Castiel Novak, a professor from the University of Florida. We need to talk to Katie.”

Mr. Taylor nodded stiffly, taking his daughter’s hand. Cas knelt in front of her. “Katie, I know what happened was horrible and I hate to ask, but I need you to tell me everything that happened. What you saw...”

Dean hated the haunted look in the girl’s eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. Then she fisted it in her lap. “Tommy and I...” She hesitated and glanced over at her father. Dean knew the look.  What she was about to say would  probably upset  her dad . “Tom my came over and we watched a movie. He brought some beer and we...” 

Again, she cut her gaze to her father. “And we drank a few.  After the movie, I thought it would be fun to swim in the pool.” Mr. Taylor’s jaw was working and he’d seen that same look on John Winchester’s face when Dean pulled a stupid stunt. “Tommy told me not to turn on the pool lights because... because we were skinny-dipping and he didn’t want the neighbors to see. He jumped in first and I was...” The sob broke free and her mother wrapped her in a hug, giving both Cas and Dean the stink-eye.

“Do we have to go over this again?” Mrs. Taylor snapped. “We already told the police...”

Cas addressed her calmly. “This alligator attacked and killed a young man. I need to know everything I can to track it down before it kills again.” Not the way Dean would have handled it, but Cas got results. The woman nodded and kissed her daughter’s cheek.

Katie used the crumpled tissue to wipe her snotty nose. “I was taking off my jeans when Tommy... when he screamed. I... I thought he was playing around...  ya know?” Her eyes pleaded with Cas to understand. He gave her a wan smile of encouragement. “I yelled at him and I heard... I heard splashing. I ran to the patio and turned on the pool lights and that’s... that’s when I saw it.”

“It?” Cas asked softly.

“The alligator... but it was huge... bigger than Big Tex. And Tommy was...” She began to wail. Dean squeezed Cas’ shoulder, silently telling him that they weren’t going to get much more out of the girl. “It had him in his mouth and it was rolling over and over .” Dean wasn’t the expert here, but he knew how alligators killed their prey. They snapped their heavy jaws around it  and spun over and over until their prey was dead from either blood loss or drowning.

A disturbance at the front door caused everyone to turn around. A couple was pushing their way into the Taylor home. “Tommy... where is my boy?” The woman screeched and a female deputy grabbed her from behind. 

Dean hated this. He’d had to inform people about drowning deaths and hunting accidents,  and  it was never easy. He walked toward the couple. The boy’s father raised his chin and spoke. “The police said our son was in an accident. Where is he?”

“I’m sorry...” Before he could get the words out, the woman dropped to her knees screaming her son’s name. Just to make his day even better, John Winchester strode into the house, cool eyes finding Dean’s easily. 

It took another thirty minutes for the parents of Tommy Dyson to calm down enough to talk. The coroner had taken the body to the county morgue and they would have to go there to identify their son. Chief Winchester didn’t interfere with anything. He stood to the side of the patio, arms crossed, watching as Cas studied the pool and the surrounding lawn. When Cas was ready to go, Dean squared his shoulders and approached his father. “Chief.”

“I’m going to talk to the governor’s office. I should have listened to Novak... maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” Dean swallowed, unable to speak. His father looked away from the pool, the filter had  been restarted  and the water was clear again. He knew Cas had the evidence collected from it in several plastic bags. “Finding this thing is your number one priority, son. I’ll give you and Novak as many men and resources as you need.”

“Thanks,” Dean said softly. “Cas will find it. I know he will.” His father met his gaze, studying him for a few seconds before nodding and turning away to go back to his SUV. Dean waited as Cas gave the backyard one more look. He looked tired. Dean knew neither would be getting much sleep until the creature was found and killed.

The grating sound woke him and he opened his eyes to glare at the man in the other bed. “Can you please stop that... that infernal  _ noise _ ?” He closed his eyes again and heard Dean moving around the room. The strangely familiar song stopped abruptly. Sleep claimed him again. It was their day off and by God, he was going to rest.

When he woke the second time, he was alone. He was grateful. It saved him from facing Dean after his  drunken confession about being deeply in the closet. He’d thought they were becoming close. Maybe they still could be friends. After all, he didn’t come to Texas to find a boyfriend. 

Castiel showered and gathered his laundry. It wasn’t until he was back in his room folding his clothes that he checked his phone. He hadn’t plugged it in last night and the screen remained black. Sighing, he set it to charge and grabbed his keys and wallet. He wanted to take a trip over to Galveston. He’d heard the beaches weren’t bad. Despite the dreary weather, he could still look around.

On the way, he listened to the local weatherman. It looked like they’d have rain for the next couple of days. Maybe it would cool things off. 

Galveston turned out to be an interesting city. He did enjoy the beach and enjoyed a great lunch near the water. The antique stores called out to him and he spent a good deal of time searching through treasures. He did leave empty-handed though. There wasn’t enough room in his suitcase to take back anything. He left the city right before dinner and stopped at a small roadside café to eat a platter of boiled shrimp. Tired and sated he finished the drive back to the hotel. 

He checked his phone for messages and emails. There was one from Dean that came in earlier that morning. He was about to reply when another one pinged.

** 1 ** ** 0:09 a.m.  ** ** From Dean ** ** : Sorry I passed out in your room. See you Tuesday. **

** 8:58 p.m.  ** ** From Dean ** ** : What did you do on your day off? How do you feel about  ** ** bakewell ** ** tarts? I might experiment tomorrow and bring it for breakfast Tuesday. **

Cas ignored the first question and answered the second one.

** 9 ** ** :02 p.m. From Cas: I have no opinion on Bakewell tarts. **

He did recall his grandmother making one for a holiday once. She wasn’t known for her cooking skills and if he remembered correctly, it tasted like wallpaper paste.

Castiel shrugged out of his shirt and flung himself onto his bed, phone still in hand. His gaze lit on the bottle of tequila still on the table. Maybe he would indulge before he went to bed. He had nothing better to do. If he were home, he would be preparing for class and listening to some relaxing classical music or maybe he’d be at his friend, Meg’s condo enjoying some wine and conversation with her and some other faculty members.

** 9:03 p.m. To Cas: It’s a classic British dessert, Cas. Aren’t you impressed that I’m going to make one? **

Castiel smiled. He really did like Dean.  He just couldn’t  _ like _ Dean. 

** 9:06 p.m. From Cas: I know what a Bakewell tart is, Dean. I will be impressed if it tastes good.  **

He set the phone down in order to stand and undress. The air conditioner was working overtime, but it was losing its battle with the heavy August heat. He discarded his clothing until he was clad in his plain white boxers. He caught his image in the mirror above the dresser. He was in decent shape for a forty-something. 

His phone pinged again.

** 9:07 p.m. To Cas: Just wait. Don’t have too much fun tomorrow.  ** ** Good n ** ** ight. **

“Damn it,  Castiel . Don’t get sucked into something you can’t have,” he muttered and tapped out his last message of the night.

** 9:08 p.m. From Cas: Goodnight, Dean. **

Castiel woke late and decided to stay in the room and work on his syllabus for the next semester. He also needed to talk to his temporary boss at the US Fish and Wildlife Service to request an extension on his assignment. Tagging the local alligator population wasn’t high on his list  right now. He’d have to come back during  fall break to finish. 

For dinner, he found a barbeque place that promised the best brisket in Houston and he wasn’t disappointed. He did feel a wave of sadness when he looked at the empty seat across from him. He wanted to imagine a person there who would be his equal, a loving partner to share his day with, someone willing to travel the world... Green eyes and a boyishly handsome face was the image that came to mind and he tossed down his napkin in disgust. Falling for Dean wasn’t an option.

Sated by the heavy meal,  Castiel returned to his room and got ready for bed. He found an old movie on cable and after an hour, he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He turned down the volume and was asleep in minutes. 

The shrill sound of his phone startled him awake. He reached to silence the alarm. Why was it still dark? Groaning, he fumbled and it landed on the carpet with a dull thud. “Fuck...” 

When he finally had his hand on it again, his mind told him that it wasn’t the alarm, but an incoming call.  _ From Dean. _ The time showed that it was after eleven.

“Dean?”

“Cas, get dressed. I’ll be picking you up in...”  There was a slight pause and  Castiel swore he heard a siren. “ Ten minutes.”

“What’s going on? What’s happened?”  He was suddenly wide awake. Throwing back the bedspread, he rolled to his feet, as he reached for the lamp beside the bed.

“Your gator. It killed someone. Be there soon.”  Dean’s words sent fingers of cold down his spine. He’d known it was a possibility, but he’d hoped to find the beast before...  Castiel ran tired fingers through his hair.  _ Christ.  _ Quickly he threw on some clothes and ran toward the hotel entrance. It was raining, but only slightly. Headlights cast shadows around him and he flung open the passenger door. 

“Go,” he shouted, slamming the door as Dean hit the gas.

The scene was quiet.  Castiel noted all the emergency vehicles and officers milling around, but no one was talking. He’d let Dean ask the initial questions, but he needed to see the body. He needed to picture the kill in his head.

Bright halogen lights lit the backyard. “Has the filter been shut off?” His question was met with stoic nods. It was imperative that all physical evidence be preserved. The pool’s water was discolored by the victim’s blood, but his eyes only skimmed over it. His gaze zeroed in on the covered body. It was already soaked through. A black body bag lay open beside it, waiting on the coroner’s word.  Castiel nodded to the older gentleman and pulled back the corner of the bloody sheet. The boy had been nude, and he was in three pieces. His upper torso and head looked untouched, but from his navel down... Two legs were side by side. The teen’s hips and thighs were gone. 

“Christ.” He heard Dean’s muttered expletive, but didn’t take his eyes off the body. He squatted down and noted the damage. Jagged flesh and tissue made his stomach turn, but he forced himself to remain steady. The coroner was beside him and  Castiel pointed to a tooth embedded in what was left of the kid’s left femur. The man nodded  and ** , ** usin g forceps, removed it. He held it up for  Castiel’s inspection.

“This was definitely our alligator ,” he said to Dean’s back. The other man slowly turned his head to meet  Castiel’s eyes.  “ The bite radius matches that from the cattle and the deer. I need to talk to the girl.”

The interview went as expected.  Castiel tried to project a sense of calmness to the witness’ parents. He’d been in a village when a Nile crocodile had taken an old woman. The screams and cries still haunted him. 

As the boy’s parents aired their grief,  Castiel escaped to the pool area. He was there when the investigators removed the filter and skimmer. He watched as pieces of the boy were bagged and he took notes of the marks at the edge where claws ripped away the lining. With a flashlight borrowed from one of the police officers, he walked to the edge of the lawn and bent to touch the tall grass where it had been broken and tramped by a creature that weighed well over a ton, probably closer to two.

Castiel was very aware of John Winchester’s presence on the scene and to say it made him nervous was an understatement. Oh, he wasn’t afraid of the man, but he knew just enough to understand Dean’s rocky relationship.

With a final look at the edge of the property,  Castiel returned to Dean. His father had disappeared and he was glad. If he would have listened to  Castiel , maybe, just maybe, the teen wouldn’t have been killed. “You ready?”

“Yes,” came  Castiel’s simply reply. He was tired and emotionally drained. In the illumination of the lights, Dean looked pale. The walk to  Dean’s truck was silent. Once they were belted in and on the road,  Castiel spoke. “What time are we starting tomorrow... no today?” A glance at the truck’s radio screen showed him it was nearly four. 

“We both need some rest,” Dean said without looking at him. “Dad... the Chief said we can have extra manpower. I’ll coordinate and give you a call when I have all my ducks in a row.” 

The tires hummed over the blacktop and  Castiel let it lull  him. Dean’s question startled him awake. “Cas, will it... do you think it will kill again?”

“Definitely. This one has no known predators... not with its size. Alligators have  brains the size of a walnut, but this one is cunning and is killing for the sport of it. That is what scares me the most.”

“Have you ever seen something like this before?”

Castiel glanced over. Dean was staring out of the windshield. At first glance, he looked calm, but  Castiel could see the tension in his hands gripping the wheel. His expression was anything but relaxed. “Twice, but nothing the size of this one. And not with an American Alligator. My experience was with crocodiles, one in the Amazon  a n d  the other  a Nile Croc .  W e w ere lucky and got them befor e th ey  each had  killed m ore than one human victim.”

Dean didn’t respond and  Castiel used the silence to think. He wondered how many men John Wincheste r  would spare ? He  didn’t want a bunch of trigger-happy men out on the lake. Mostly, he didn’t want widespread panic, but the people needed to be aware.

At the hotel, Dean stopped the truck by the entrance.  Castiel put his hand on the door and stopped. Without turning, he asked, “Dean, it’s been a long night. Stay. You can make use of the other bed and we can get an earlier start.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea...” Dean’s words trailed off.

“What are you worried about?”  Castiel did turn then, only to see Dean staring back at him. Neither waivered for a few tense seconds. 

“Nothing... nothing,” Dean exhaled and looked away. “Let me park the truck.” 

Castiel let them into his room and sat heavily on the edge of his bed. Dean stood, trying to appear casual, but the tension in the room was almost tangible. “Dean...”

“Tonight...” Both spoke at once and Dean’s mouth snapped shut. 

“Get some sleep, Dean,”  Castiel whispered. He stood, turned his back on Dean and stripped down to his boxers. He refused to look as he heard Dean doing the same. Something was there, barely on the surface. Something that  Castiel couldn’t let happen.

The bed beside him squeaked as Dean settled in. The light went out and  Castiel let his eyes adjust to the darkness. “Cas?”

“Yes?”

“I’m setting my alarm for eight.”

“That’s fine,”  Castiel said. 

Try as he might, sleep didn’t com e.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stefany McGraw won a little contest I ran and she has a cameo role. She will appear in this chapter and the next one.

_ She moved through the dense underbrush, her immense weight leaving crushed plant life in her wake. Something in the air was making her restless. She slid into the soft mud of the bank and sank under the water. She dove deep to escape the heat. Twenty feet below the surface, she rested on a submerged log. A few fish swam by, but they didn’t interest her. The craving was strong. She would sleep and when the day turned into night, she would hunt again. _

Dean’s complicated feelings for Cas notwithstanding, he slept like a baby. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline from being called out to_ that _and the emotional letdown afterwards, but either way, he got a good four hours. He even woke five minutes before his alarm sounded. As stealthily as possible, he shut it off before it could wake the grumpy-ass man on the other bed and went to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, he peed and washed his face and hands. He really needed to start keeping an overnight bag in his truck. 

He used Cas’ toothpaste and brushed his teeth with his forefinger. It would have to do. Back in the room, he pulled on his uniform pants and undershirt before easing outside. Another overcast day greeted him and he sighed at the humidity that hung in the early morning air like a wet blanket. He called his father. 

The ten-minute conversation was quick and to the point. Dean would have Jo, Benny, and Garth at his disposal for as long as it took to bring down the gator. After hanging up with headquarters, he responded to the three missed calls from Sam. 

“Is it true?” 

“Good morning, Sam,” Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Dean...” Sam’s irritation could be heard in the inflection of his name. 

“What did you hear?” 

“That the alligator killed someone last night.” 

“Yep,” Dean popped the p and took a deep breath. “It was a kid.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Yeah, look, Dad gave me a team and we’re going after it.” The rain started and Dean swore softly. He ducked under the overhang of the motel. “If you want an interview with Cas, you’ll need to do it by phone because we’re heading out soon.” 

“Have you been watching the weather?” 

Dean squinted up at the sky. Somewhere up there, the sun was causing a glare, but the clouds obstructed it. “It’s raining and looks like it’s here to stay for a while.” 

“Yeah, there’s a tropical storm in the gulf kicking up all kinds of bad weather,” Sam lamented. “So, I take it Dad’s finally listening to you guys, huh?” 

“I think the dead kid drove our point home,” Dean said, the image of the teen’s body flashing before his eyes. He closed them, but it remained. It was something he’d never forget. “Look, Sammy, I gotta go.” 

“Will you tell Cas to call me when he has a minute? I would like to talk to him.” 

“Alright... bye, Sam.” 

“Dean... be careful.” 

“Always.” Dean ended the call and stepped back inside the room. “Cas,” he barked loudly. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” 

A deep growl came from under a mound of pillows. “Times’ it?” 

“Eight-twenty.” Dean moved to the bed and pushed a finger into Cas’ shoulder. “Team’s meeting us at nine-thirty. Time to rock n’ roll.” 

The mound didn’t move and Dean was about to yank off the covers when Cas spoke. “It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” Dean blew out a breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, his hip against Cas’. 

Instead of answering that heartbreaking question, Dean threw caution to the wind and laid his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Dad is giving us three wardens and another boat. We’ll meet them at the marina. We can cover twice as much ground. You’ll have to brief them on what we are looking for.” 

Cas rolled onto his back and stared up at Dean from his pillow. “We need a way to kill it.” 

“How did you kill those crocs?” 

“We set poisoned meat on hooks and once it took the bait, we followed the buoy attached to the hook.” 

“Would an M-16 do it?” The Texas game wardens carried the heavy automatic weapons, but Dean hadn’t ever had the need to use it in the field. 

“Maybe. The kill zone for an alligator is behind its skull. There is a soft spot there that leads directly to its brain. That’s what you have to aim for.” 

Dean nodded and stood. “Let’s get a move on then.” 

It only took Cas about ten minutes to get ready, but after a stop for coffee and a breakfast biscuit, they were running behind, so once again, Dean used his siren and lights to get through the heavy Houston traffic. It was dodgy pulling a boat, but people moved out of their way. 

On the way, Cas took out his phone. “Stefany, it’s Professor Novak.” Dean glanced over, wondering who this Stefany person was. “I’m good, but this isn’t a social call.” There was a pause and then Cas continued. “I’m in Houston. We have a rogue alligator and last night, it killed a teenage boy.” Again, Cas paused to listen. “Yes. I have a cast and I’m estimating it is over twenty-five feet.” Dean thought he heard the person shouting on the other end of the line. “No, I wish I was joking.” 

Cas was nodding like the person on the phone could see him. “Yes. Thank you. Call when you land.” 

Once the call ended, Dean rounded on him. “Who the fuck is Stefany?” 

“Stefany McGraw is a former student of mine. She is currently at the Savannah River Ecology Laboratory, but she traveled with me to Africa.” 

“Why did you call her?” 

“I need her.” Dean waited, but Cas didn’t add anything else. 

“So, just like that, you plan on pulling in another civilian? You should have cleared it with me first, Cas. I’m not risking some girl’s life because she was a teacher’s pet.” 

“Stefany isn’t _ some girl, _ Dean. She is one of the leading experts on the American Alligator. I need her eyes on this.” 

“I thought you were the expert,” Dean retorted angrily. Cas needed to clear shit like this with him, goddamnit. 

“I am, but with this creature’s size and killing patterns, I need someone to work with. Someone who knows just as much, if not more, than me.” 

“Fuck... look, if she gets hurt or causes one of my people to get hurt...” 

“She won’t,” Cas growled back at him. “Trust me.” 

And fuck if he didn’t trust Cas. He didn’t have to like it though. They didn’t speak again until Dean pulled up at the Marina. The other boat was already in the water and his three co-workers and friends stood on the dock, waiting for them. Dean introduced Cas and he let the expert tell the team what to look for. “And please, it is imperative that you are careful. No one goes after it alone,” Cas added at the end of his briefing. 

Dean did a weapons and ammo check with everyone and they launched his boat. Jo jumped aboard theirs, the hood of her slicker covering half her face. Dean quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything. The two boats left the small harbor and headed out onto the open water of the lake. With overcast skies and a strong wind, the wardens were fighting a rough chop. The weather might actually help them out, since only the diehard fisherman were out today. 

Cas gave them the coordinates of the closest shoreline to the home where the teen was killed. As Dean drew close, Cas moved to the bow and scanned the vegetation. “There.” He pointed and both boats cut their engines to drift in. “See, it entered the water here.” Dean stared at the area. The tracks made by clawed feet and a huge tail were clear, despite the rainfall. Cas stared out over the lake. “There isn’t a slough or creek nearby. It went into the lake itself.” 

“Christ,” Dean muttered, thinking of the areas that allow swimming. His own father had taken him and Sam here when they were kids. He remembered jumping out of the rented pontoon boat and swimming around. 

With Benny and Garth heading north, Dean steered his boat south, patrolling the shore for any disturbances. They kept in contact by radio with the plan to go five miles in each direction before meeting back at the marina to regroup. 

Six tired, wet, and disappointed individuals got off the boats two hours later. Benny hefted a cooler out of the back of his truck and they all grabbed bottles of water. “What’s next?” Benny asked, leaning against the bumper. 

“We have to keep hunting,” Cas said. “Something this large cannot stay hidden forever. Once Sam’s newscast airs, I’m hoping people will be more alert.” Sam and Cas had shared a brief conversation earlier and he was set to broadcast on the newsbreak at noon. The office of the Texas Fish and Game would be issuing its own press release on five of the city’s radio stations. News of the boy’s death was all over social media already and they needed to calm the panic. 

Cas’ phone picked that moment to ring and he walked away. With Garth and Benny getting their lunches out of the truck, Dean was alone with Jo. “He’s hot.” 

“Who?” Dean asked, his gaze lingering on Cas’ backside. 

“Your guy.” Dean’s eyes flew to Jo’s. Her look of pure innocence put him on alert. 

“He’s not my guy.” 

“Maybe he could be. He looks at you a lot.” 

“Shut up,” Dean muttered, unwilling to discuss this with her, despite their years of friendship. 

“I’m just saying...” 

“Jo, knock it off. He's here to work. Once this monster is fish food, he’ll pack up and go home to Florida. End of story.” 

“So, have a fucking fling. Shit, if he looked at me like he looks at you, I’d be climbing him like a spider monkey.” 

“You kiss your mama with that mouth?” A fling wouldn’t be good enough for someone like Cas and Dean, well, he didn’t do relationships. 

Her laughter was her only response. Cas began walking toward them and thankfully, it ended their conversation. 

Castiel had finally fallen asleep right before Dean began moving around his room. Yes, the more Dean tried to be quiet, the more noise he made. Castiel was aware the moment he slipped outside the door, using the security latch to prop the door open so it wouldn’t lock. 

For a brief second, Castiel forgot about the events of the night before. Then it all came back in stark Technicolor. He huddled under the covers, wanting the world to go away. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Dean was talking nonsense. “Cas, wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” 

Dean told him the time when he asked for it and he knew he should get moving, but something made him say, “It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” 

He felt Dean sit on the bed beside him, their hips touching. It shouldn’t have felt as pleasant as it did. It wasn’t skin on skin. It was platonic and not intimate at all. 

He didn’t answer Castiel’s question, instead he talked about their morning plans. It got Castiel into a better frame of mind. He could do this. Subtract the emotion, deal with the facts, and find a solution. 

Part of that solution was getting his former student here as quickly as possible. Stefany was Canadian, and had a deep fascination with anything reptilian. She did her thesis on the American Alligator and was now at the Savannah River Ecology Laboratory both researching and teaching. She was one of his success stories and he was proud of her. 

In the truck, Dean turned on his lights and siren and sped through traffic. Since they were dragging a boat trailer, people gave them a wide berth. While Dean did the driving, Castiel called Stefany. She didn’t ask him many questions. All he had to do was give her the facts as he knew them and she was catching the first flight to Houston. 

“Who the fuck is Stefany?” Castiel replied calmly to all Dean’s open hostility toward her. It was a strange reaction. One would think he’d want as many people helping as possible. 

At the marina Castiel was introduced to the other game wardens and he gave them a quick rundown of what they were looking for and the precautions they all needed to take. 

Lakes weren’t usually clear, but with the overcast skies and threat of more rain, the water was even murkier than usual. The air seemed oppressive and a sense of doom fell over Castiel. 

By eleven, they were all tired and had damp clothing despite their raingear. The two boats rendezvoused back at the marina. They’d found where the had alligator entered the lake, but their search wasn’t fruitful and everyone was discouraged. 

They all gathered around Dean’s truck and listened to the broadcast. It was a warning to stay away from swampy areas, don’t swim or wade, and report any sightings to the police or Texas Fish and Game. 

Cas’ phone rang and he saw Stefany’s name on the screen. He walked away to have some privacy. “I’m boarding now. My flight should land at 4:40.” 

“Can you get an Uber to the motel? We will meet you there.” He gave her the name of the motel and hung up. Jo was grinning and Dean looked almost constipated when he strode back to them. “Did I miss something?” 

“No,” Dean said peevishly. “Let’s get moving. We have more water to cover.” 

“We need to be back at the motel by five or so to meet up with Stefany,” Castiel told them and he thought he heard Dean say ‘Stefany’ in a sing-song voice under his breath. Why was he so set against his former student coming here to assist them? It made no sense. 

The rain kept coming down, making them all miserable. Castiel looked on it as a blessing though. Bad weather kept people off the water. At four, Dean radioed the other boat and called it a day. By the time the boats were trailered, Castiel was physically exhausted from the white-knuckled tension he’d felt all day. 

After saying goodbye to the other members of their team, Dean asked him if he could swing by his place to grab a change of clothes. “It makes more sense for me to stay in your room.” Castiel really didn’t see how. He’d much rather stay in his own home than in a hotel, but he was too tired to argue. Besides, he wanted to see Dean’s home. 

The house itself was in a neat neighborhood. Dean’s was painted a soft yellow. He parked the truck in the narrow driveway, behind an older car. It was probably a gas hog, and Castiel’s inner environmentalist cringed at the thought, but she was beautiful and obviously well-loved. “Is that the _ baby _ you mentioned?” 

Dean grinned, “Yep, she’s my pride and joy.” Castiel nodded, though he didn’t understand people’s attachment to inanimate objects. 

They got out of the truck and Castiel followed Dean up the stone walk to the front door. The living room was small, but nicely laid out. A brown corduroy sofa was set against the front wall facing a huge television affixed to the opposite wall. Bookcases lined the far wall and a recliner was angled to face the TV by the front door. The artwork on the walls were depictions of cowboys and cattle. 

“Make yourself at home, man. It will only take me a few,” Dean called out as he headed down a short hallway and disappeared through a door at the end of it. Castiel stood in place for a few seconds and then decided to take Dean at his word and _ make himself at home _. He walked to the bookcases and was surprised to see not only Vonnegut, but King, Koontz, L’Amour, and even the complete Harry Potter series. He knew Dean was well-read, but his choices of reading material mirrored his own. 

Several framed photographs set on one of the shelves. He recognized Sam in quite a few. An older black and white picture depicted a young couple with a toddler and an infant. Dean’s parents? He looked closer. Yes, that was John Winchester. Dean had told him in passing that his mother was deceased and John had remarried. Moving on, he found a casual wedding picture of Dean’s father and a dark blonde woman. She was smiling adoringly at the elder Winchester. Castiel licked his lips and set the picture down. He would love to find a person to share his life with one day. Someone that would look at him like that. 

“I’m ready,” Dean said from behind him. He didn’t seem bothered that Castiel was looking at his pictures. He came to stand beside him. Castiel pointed to the picture of Dean graduating from training academy. “Damn, I looked good,” Dean said, nudging Castiel’s shoulder. 

“And you are so modest. How are you even single?” 

“Just haven’t found the right one yet,” Dean said with a shrug. Castiel supplied the words ‘right woman’ in his mind. Dean would never commit to a man. 

“Shall we go?” If Dean noticed Castiel mood dampening, he didn’t say anything. The drive back to the hotel was made in silence. Castiel looked at his watch when Dean parked. 

“Stefany should be here by now.” Dean mumbled something under his breath. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just wondering where she’s going to sleep. I’m not sharing my bed.” Dean slammed the door and Castiel sighed before getting out. 

“She will have her own room, Dean.” What was his problem? “Did you think an adult woman would want to share a room with her former teacher?” 

“Hey, not one to judge, dude. Maybe she was hot for her teacher. I had a crush on my English teacher my senior year of high school.” 

“I’m pretty sure Stefany knows I’m gay, Dean.” 

“Yeah, guess there is that,” Dean said with another shrug as Castiel unlocked the room and stepped inside. 

Ignoring him, Castiel tapped on Stefany’s icon. It only rang twice before she picked up. “Hi, Professor.” 

“Hello, Stefany, have you checked in yet?” 

“Yes, Sir. I’m in Room 208.” 

“Good. We are in Room 138. When you settle in, just come down.” 

After hanging up, he looked at the closed bathroom door. Dean had carried his bag in there while Castiel made his call. 

Shrugging off his wet raingear, he shook the water from his hair. He needed to change and assumed that’s what Dean was doing. He moved to the door and called out, “Should we order something for dinner?” 

“Whatever,” came the muted reply. 

“Dean, the jealous child act is getting old. What is your real issue with Stephany? She is a civilian, but then, so am I. I can assure you that she held her own against Nile Crocodiles. I saw her do it. She is well-equipped to handle this.”

“Fine, so she’s Wonder Woman. I just don’t see why we needed another _ expert _. We have you.” 

“And we’re facing the largest alligator I’ve ever heard of outside of a Hollywood B movie.” He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation through the bathroom door. 

The door opened abruptly and Dean was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair standing in spikes. “I’m going to go grab us a couple of pizzas. She isn’t some vegan, is she?” 

“Not that I’m aware of.” The slamming of the door was Dean’s response. Castiel raked his fingers through his wet hair. Dean was acting like a petulant child. Was it jealousy? Why? He didn’t want Castiel and Dean knew he was gay. The man was making him crazy. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, there is some graphic depictions of an animal attack. 
> 
> Also, while I studied the weather reports and made copious notes on Hurricane Harvey, I had to change a few things to fit the story. Most of the details are correct though.

_ The swim across the lake didn’t take her long. A storm was coming and her  _ _ instinct moved her further west. The bottom was muddy and her claws left furrows. The sun was setting and she surfaced, still and alert. What had she heard? She moved closer to the shore. Humans. The first was easy, but the second one was making noise. She hated no _ _ is _ _ e, bu _ _ t that was not really a problem. It was easy to drag both bodies down into the darkne _ _ ss. Into the silence _ _ . _

Dean slammed the door and winced. He was acting like a kid on the playground when someone else was playing with his best friend. He had no claim on Cas. None whatsoever. Sure, he might  _ want _ him, but the chance of something happening between them was almost nil.

In the hall, a young woman passed him, brunette, nose piercings, glasses, the studious type. Was that her? Dean blew by her. 

Once he was buckled into the truck a nd  headed for B rother’s Pizza, Dean took a deep breath. He was being a brat. Cas admitted he was gay. He told Dea n that this Stefany girl was an old student of his. “Get it together, Winchester.” 

By the time he got the pizza and beer, he’d talked himself into being a grown-up about the whole Cas thing. They were friends. Nothing more. Sure, he was hot and Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t want him in his bed, but it couldn’t happen. “See, being an adult isn’t that hard,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror.

He banged on th e  door  to Cas’ room wi th the hand holding the six-pack. It was opened by Cas and he looked like he was waiting on Dean to say something stupid. Well, he deserved that. The girl from the hall was sitting on Cas’ bed. The television was on, but the sound was muted. Two laptops were open on the table. “Hey, you must by Stefany. I’m Dean. Thanks for coming to help.” See, all grown up, he mentally threw out to Cas.

“Hi, Dean.” She stood and held out her hand. Dean passed the pizzas off to Cas and took it into his own, giving it a firm shake. “Cas was just filling me in on what we have so far.”

“Great. Let’s eat and then we can go over our strategy.” Dean gave Cas another  _ I’m an adult _ look and set the beer on the table.

Stefany opened a bottle of water and Dean mentally shrugged while he uncapped a bottle of beer. Cas took a Sprite out of his mini-fridge and they all sat down to eat. Dean leaned back and listened to the two  brainiacs talking shop, offering up his own opinions when asked. But mostly he drank beer and observed. This is who Cas needed. A smart person to discuss the inner workings of prehistoric beasts with. Both were animated and Cas wore a small smile when they talked about the two years  he was her professor.

When  Stefany began yawning, Cas stood and told her to go and get some rest because tomorrow would be a long day. She gave him a hug and waved at Dean, who was still sprawled against the headboard, six empty beer bottles beside him. He wasn’t drunk. No one could say that Dean was a lightweight, but he was buzzed.

Cas shut the door after her and glanced down at Dean with a quizzical look on his face. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” he said, grabbing a pair of sweats out of the dresser. Dean nodded and waved.

The television was still on, now showing a map of the Gulf of Mexico. A swirly doodle was in the middle and he lifted a brow, but it didn’t hold his interest for long. No, the sound of the toilet flushing and then the ru nning water in the  sink drew his  attentio n .  Cas was probably brushing his teeth. Something he’d need to do too. Eventually. He lifted one of the empties, peering inside to see if anything remained. 

When the door opened, Dean dropped the bottle, the clinking of glass against glass loud in the quiet room. The man was wearing the sweats and they were riding low on his hips. Those hips... holy fuck. Tanned skin, miles and miles of it. Cas’ chest was sculp ted, the pecs pronounced without being too hard , like a gym  rat ’s .  His nipples were dusky and there was a tiny mole... right there. Dean looked away.

He heard Cas gathering up his notes and shutting his laptop. The generic painting of  a mountain  did n’t  hold Dean’s attention for long. He needed audible stimulation, like television, music, conversation... otherwise he grew bored and was  apt to do something stupid. “ How do you feel about nipple play?”

Cas was poised over his bed, pulling the bedspread down, but he stopped, his hand frozen in space. “Nipple play?”

Dean blinked a couple of times. Had he said  that out loud? Christ on a crutch. “Uh... no...”

Those beautiful blue eyes narrowed. “Dean, are you drunk?”

“Drunk? No... not... no.” Mortified, Dean reached  for  the remote. “Looking at the weather. Need to check it out for tomorrow.” The volume reached the point that the neighboring room could probably hear and Cas took it away from him with an easy swipe of his hand, lowering it quickly. He was still staring at Dean like he was a two-headed snake or something. He’d seen one on the  I n ter net once.  _ It happened _ . “Ever seen a two-headed snake?”

Cas, looking completely baffled by Dean’s erratic behavior, tossed the remote onto his bed and sat down on the edge, the sweats outlining his... Dean’s eyes flew up. “It isn’t uncommon to see two-headed snakes and turtles. Polycephaly isn’t as rare as you’d think in the animal kingdom. Why do you ask?”

“Just... uh... curious.” Dean shrugged. “Well, we should get some shuteye, huh?”

_ “And Tropical Storm Harvey has reached hurricane status, _ ” droned the voice on the television. Cas turned his head sharply to stare at the screen.

Dean watched him. God damn, the man was beautiful. And totally untouchable.

_ “It is still too early for predictions of where it will make landfall, but as of now, the eastern seaboard of Texas and all of southern Louisiana should watch for further updates. _ ”

Cas turned off the weather and the room become quiet again. Dean stared at the dark screen, unwilling to make any eye contact with Cas. The lamp between the beds went out with a click and he heard the scratch of the sheets as Cas slid under the covers. 

The minutes ticked by and Dean thought Cas had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t so lucky. He’d closed his eyes and was letting the alcohol relax him when Cas spoke. “My nipples are sensitive to touch and oral stimulation.”

Saliva pooled in  Dean’s mouth and he choked on it. “Goodnight, Dean.” The bastard.

Morning came and with it, torrential rain. “Do you think the hurricane will come h ere ? ”  Stefany asked from the backseat. They’d just stopped to grab their breakfast of coffee and pastries at the local Starbucks.

“Nope,” Dean said, his mouth already full of the bear claw. “Bet it loses steam and fizzles out. Most do.” Cas was already on his laptop and didn’t respond. 

Their team was waiting and in short order, the boats were in the water. There had been no new reports of any sightings or animal deaths. Dean was finding that strange since their hunt had made the news. He figured everyone that lived near the water would be seeing alligators that weren’t there.

After a few hours of searching , they ’d worked their way far along the western shore of the lake and hadn’t seen anything. Everyone was getting antsy, and the usual banter  was nonexistent. All eyes skimmed the water.

Dean called off the daily search when the cloud cover and rain made it impossible to see anything. He reported in to his father while Garth, Jo, Cas, and Benny trailered the boats. His father, like expected, wasn’t happy. “Have you been monitoring the weather?”

“Saw the hurricane was churning up in the Gulf last night, but haven’t checked anything this morning. Why, what do you have?”

“It’s sitting at a steady Cat 3, but expected to increase in strength,” John informed him. “And son, they are predicting it’s coming here.”

“Fuck. This is all we need.”

“I don’t have to tell you that finding this alligator is imperative, because once the weather turns, we’ll have a mess on our hands.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know. We just... Cas even pulled in another expert and we aren’t seeing shit. It’s like the damn thing disappeared.”

“Find it, Dean.” With that, John hung up and Dean released a loud breath.  _ Fuck _ .

It was close to six when Dean parked at a local barbeque joint. “Let’s eat.”

Stefany and Cas found them a table, while Dean placed their order at the counter. The heady scent of smoked meat made his stomach growl. The ham sandwich he’d had for lunch seemed so long ago. Joining them, he found himself seated next to  Stefany and across from Cas. She was staring at the television mounted on the wall above them. Cas reached over the table and touched her hand. “ Stefany , if you need to get out of here before the storm hits, I will understand.”

She smiled wanly. “We just don’t have hurricanes where I come from. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m afraid.”

“You’ve been a great help already. When we get to the hotel, call and get a flight out of here,” Cas told her just as the server arrived with their meals. The next thirty minutes was spent listening to  Stefany tell them her predictions about the alligator’s instincts. “With the way it is traveling, I would venture to guess it is a female. She could be searching for a mate, but something’s just  _ off _ .”

Dean had taken a bite of his brisket when his radio bleated loudly. “ _ 21-19, this is County Base. Do you copy _ _ ? _ ”

“21-19 County. Go ahead, ” Dean said into his mic.

_ “Patching you through to Harris County Sheriff’s Department.” _

“Ten-four, County.” Dean turned the volume down since half the restaurant was staring at him. He stood up. “Going outside,” he mouthed to Cas and pushed the door open. In the parking lot, his radio came to life. 

_ “Game Warden Winchester, this is Deputy Mills. We have a situation at King’s River Estates. _ ” Dean knew that area was on the western shore of the lake and filled with large, expensive homes.

“Go ahead, Deputy Mills.”

“An elderly coupl e  was las t seen walking in their backyard. The neighbors said they heard a scream and by the time they got out back, the couple was missing. With all the talk of the giant alligator, they panicked and called us. I was first on scene and checked the home and surrounding area for signs...” There was a long pause and Dean thought he’d lost the connection, but she finally continued. “The shoreline was... it showed signs... hell, Winchester... found an arm... just a fucking arm.” 

Dean inhaled sharply. “Deputy Mills, listen to me. Stay away from the water. Make sure all the homes in the area are informed. They are to remain inside. Got that?”

“ Ten-four, Winchester . ”

“I’ll be there in...” He stopped to look at his watch. King’s River Estates was about thirty-five minutes from their location. “twenty-five minutes. Give me the address.” 

“Thanks, Winchester. This is above my paygrade.” She recited the address and he made a mental note of it before signing off.

Dean rushed  inside and tossed some money on the table. “Let’s go.”

Stefany and Cas scrambled out of their seats. Neither ask ing what was going on. Not in a crowded restaurant. Safe inside the truck, Dean hit the lights and siren, and screeched out of the parking lot. “Dean?” Cas asked, staring at him intently.

“Older couple. Both missing. They found an arm.” Dean’s voice was steady, but his insides were on fire with stomach acid. 

Castiel tried to put Dean’s remark about nipple play out of his mind. He’d seen the way Dean looked at his bare chest and a part of him was proud of the way he looked at forty-something. Some of his colleagues had let themselves go, but he’d always been a runner. He wasn’t strict with his diet, but most nights he ate salads, not because of calories, but because he was lazy and grabbing a bag of the premade meals was easy.

He’d also known that Dean had a slight buzz, so that probably led to the comment and he couldn’t help teasing him with the remark about oral stimulation. 

All that was forgotten after a long, unfruitful day. His three weeks were almost up and he was supposed to be getting ready to head  home  to prep are for the upcoming semester. He couldn’t leave as long as the alligator was still out there though. 

Glad to finally sit down to eat a hot meal,  Castiel listened carefully to Stefany’s insight. He agreed with her about the sex of the creature. It didn’t explain why it had taken the boy though. A chlorinated pool was the last place a wild alligator would go. The chemical smell kept most away , but there have been a few cases in the southern states . He was  still  deep in thought when Dean’s radio startled them all.

Now, he found himself racing through the rainy streets of Houston, hoping against all hope that this was a tragic accident and not another victim of the giant beast. He looked at Dean’s profile in the headlights of other cars on the road. The other man’s knuckles were gripping the wheel tightly. Normally, Dean was a relaxed driver, an elbow bent against the door’s armrest, legs loose, fingers tapping. Not tonight. The man was tense and it showed. His jaw was set, lips straight, eyes barely blinking as he drove at breakneck speed. 

This neighborhood was affluent. Much more so than the one across the lake where the boy was killed. The lots were bigger and in between the large homes, Castiel could see the lake. Once again, blue and red lights lit the night. Dean parked and turned to them. “ Stefany , you don’t have to...”

“I need to see. I’m good.”  Stefany was with  Castiel in Africa when they found an elderly person’s body after a croc attack. She’d remained calm and professional. Dean looked over at him and Castiel nodded. 

“Okay. Stick close to me. Neither of you are in uniform, so... just stay close.” They all exited the truck and followed Dean. A slim woman in the uniform of the sheriff’s office met them. “Deputy Mills?” Dean asked, holding out his hand.

“Game Warden Winchester. Thanks for coming.” She shook his hand and looked over at Castiel.

“This is Cas...  Castiel Novak and Stefany McGraw. They are alligator experts.”  Castiel would have worded it differently, but he wasn’t going to correct Dean. Not tonight.

She eyed them intently before nodding. “Follow me.” She turned around and led them between two stately homes. “I’ve kept everyone away from the scene. The arm has been processed by the CSIs, but it is still on site for you to look at. Victims are presumed to be Joe and Sherry Goldstein, both retired.”

“Family?” Dean asked.

“Two sons, one in New York and one in LA. T hey  won ’t be notified . Not un til  we get a positive ID.”

The backyard was a great expanse of manicured grass that gently sloped down to the water’s edge. A dock jutted out into the lake with a forty or so foot cabin cruiser tied to it. Police tape was strung up across the entire yard and  Castiel noticed the law enforcement individuals were all staring out at the water, high powered rifles at the ready.

Dean ducked under the tape and  Castiel didn’t hesitate to follow him, Stefany in his wake. Together, he and his former student knelt to examine the shore. Before he could ask, Dean passed him a flashlight. The lawn and dirt were torn and flecks of blood stuck to some of the grass.  Stefany touched a patch of ravaged soil and then looked out over the surface of the lake. The sun, barely seen through the clouds, was on its way down, putting on a beautiful show for the world, but  Castiel wasn’t swayed by the beauty. Somewhere under the water, a monster waited.

“Hey, we have something,” a deputy shouted from a  boat with the sheriff’s insignia painted on its hull . It was about fifty yards out.  Castiel stood and watched as two men reached over the side and reached into the water. His eyes closed as the torn body of... something... was brought up. The coroner, a few deputies, and Dean moved toward the dock to meet the craft. 

Castiel and Stefany hung back, not sure of the protocol. A body bag was handed to the men and Stefany touched his arm. “Three human victims. Two uneaten. Have you ever...”

“No. Not outside a Hollywood movie,”  Castiel said softly. 

Dean motioned them forward and their steps on the dock seemed overly loud to  Castiel . “Cas, you and Stefany want a look?” Dean grimaced at the way his question sounded. “I just meant... fuck...  y’all might need to see.”

Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed it before moving to where the coroner stood. The body was that of a woman, perhaps in her late seventies, early eighties. Her clothes, once an expensive jogging suit, was hanging in tatters. The lower half of her body was a mess of blood, bone, and sinew. Her face was untouched and that’s what made  Castiel fight back a wave of nausea. It wasn’t the  carnage, it was the look of terror in her open eyes and slack mouth. She’d seen it. Been aware of what was happening.

The light rain turned into a torrential downpour not long after the body was taken away.  Castiel didn’t care. He was out of ideas. The ride back to the motel was painfully silent.  Castiel stared out the windshield, the steady swish- swish of the wiper blades lulling him into a sense of false calm.

Stefany nodded to them and trailed down the hall to her own room.  Castiel didn’t try to stop her. He knew notes needed to be compared, but for the life of him, he was just too damn done. Dean waited for him to unlock his room. “I guess I need to head home,” he said softly. 

“You can stay.”

Dean glanced down at his uniform, it was rumpled and dirty, a far cry from Dean’s usual look. “I need another uniform.”

“Dean, I...” He was cut off by the knock on the door. Stefany stood at the threshold when Dean opened it, saving him from saying something stupid, like  _ stay, I don’t want to be alone. _

“I got a flight out, Castiel,” Stefany said as a way of greeting. “I really hate leaving you with this, but I can’t be stuck here either.”

“Stefany, it’s okay. Go. You’ve been a great deal of help already. Besides,” he said with a reassuring smile, “you are only a phone call away.”

She hugged him tightly and then he stepped back, his hands on her upper arms. “Next time we meet up, let’s hope it is under better circumstances.”

She said her goodbyes to Dean and with that, she was gone. Dean turned on the television and they both sat down on the end of one of the beds to watch. The hurricane had stalled sometime during the previous night, but now, was increasing in strength. The meteorologist predicted Harvey would make landfall the next afternoon. “What does this mean for the gator?” Dean asked, his voice devoid of emotion.  Castiel turned to look at him. He’d been so wrapped up in his own failure at finding the monster before it struck again that he hadn’t noticed the fatigue around Dean’s eyes. The man was pale and it provided a striking canvas for the constellations of freckles. 

“She will do what all wild animals do. Either try to outrun the storm or hunker down in a safe place.”  Castiel realized he’d used the female pronoun.  He was going with  Stefany’s hypothesis of the creature’s sex.

Dean stood and looked around the room.  Castiel followed his gaze. Over the last couple of days, Dean had entrenched himself into  Castiel’s space. An extra toothbrush was beside the sink, a small pile of dirty clothes was in the corner next to his own growing mountain of laundry. 

“We can wash a load of clothes,”  Castiel suggested and he watched the tension from Dean’s shoulders disappear.

“Yeah. Okay, we can do that.” 

Ten minutes later, the two men stood in the small room that held the washers and dryers for guest’s use. Instead of returning to the room after starting the machine, they sat on the  hard plastic chairs, feet propped up on a table with ancient magazines stacked in the center. “Talk to me, Cas.”

Castiel shrugged his tired shoulders. “About what?”

“Anything except alligators. You have any pets back home? What do you like to do on your days off? Favorite celebrity crush?”

Flexing his ankles,  Castiel leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. “I don’t have a pet, though I had a guinea pig up until a year ago. On my days off, I read, take long rides on my bike, or head down to the coast. And my favorite celebrity crush... that’s a tough one. Maybe Scott Eastwood.”

“The dude from _ Fast and Furious _ ? Didn’t see you as the kind of guy to watch those kind of flicks.”

“No, I remember him from  _ The Longest Ride _ . He’s hot.”

“Yeah. Didn’t figure you’d like cowboy movies either.” Dean sounded like he was miffed. 

“You  really don’t know me that well, Dean.”

“Guess not.” Silence stretched out like a lazy cat. 

The second hand had made it twice around the old wall clock when Dean asked, “Biking, huh?” 

“Yes. I have a 2008 Harley  Softtail .” Dean sat up, his feet pushing the table a few inches across the floor.

“A Harley? I thought you meant a  _ bike _ bike . Jeez, Cas, you could have led with that. You on a Harley. Shit, I bet the co-eds drool all over you, man.”

Castiel bit back a smile. “I have caused a few heads to turn.” He couldn’t hide the grin any longer.

“Sexy motherfucker,” Dean muttered.  Castiel was still laughing softly when they took the clean clothes back to the room.


	8. Chapter 8

_ She felt the pressure drop in the air around her. She needed to seek shelter. The meal from the previous night satisfied her and she hadn’t gone far. The narrow passage was deep if she needed to escape from the storm, but for now, she rested in the underbrush. The rain beat down on her, but sh _ _ e didn’t notice. Her breathing slowed and she slept. The sound of one of man’s machines woke her and her eyes focused on the movement as it drew near. This was her place and she didn’t want to share. _

Strangely enough, Dean wasn’t worried about the hurricane. Like most people who lived on the Gulf of Mexico, they were a threat that you just didn’t think about. Shit, that’s why the citizens of Flo rida  thr o w Hurricane Parties. 

His thoughts,  as he  l aid there listen ing to the soft snores of the man sleeping in the other bed, were of a more sexual nature. Sort of anyway. Cas on  the back of a Harley, dressed in tight jeans, a leather jacket... no wait, it was his fantasy, he could do what he wanted. Cas on the back of a Harley, dressed in leather pants, a leather jacket, black helmet with reflective faceplate... God. Fucking. Damn. His dick was hard and straining against his briefs. Damn the man. When he finally slept, it was with dreams of a certain dark-haired professor.

It was the wind lashing the rain against the window that woke him. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and got his bearings. He was in Cas’ room .  He still didn’t know what to make of them having sleepovers lately. It wasn’t like he lived hours away. Sure, it was a thirty minute  drive to his house in Porter and it wasn’t like he was walking it. Those thoughts could be pus hed to the side for now. The television was on, the volume low. Dean looked over at the other bed. It was empty. 

He sat up and stretched. His teeth had sweaters on them and his breath could probably knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. First things first, brush ‘ em . Since Cas wasn’t in the room, he surmised that the other man was out getting them coffee. 

Brushing  done, Dean poked his head back into the room. Cas wasn’t back yet. He turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. After all the dreams last night, he really wanted to rub one out, but the way his luck was running, Cas would return and somehow, someway see or hear him through the door. 

Clean with added deodorant, Dean wrapped himself in his towel and opened the door to let the steam billow out. Still no Cas. Where was the fucking coffee? Honduras? He was pulling on his uniform pants when he heard the lock disengage. He zipped and faced the door. Cas came in, not with coffee, but dressed in running shorts. No shirt. Just shorts, socks, and shoes. He was soaked from the rain and possibly sweat, Dean couldn’t tell and didn’t care. His hair was plastered to his head. “Dude, you know the re’ s a  fr eakin ’ hurricane out there, right?”

Ca s  sho o k his  head like a dog , droplets of water going in all directions. “The hurricane isn’t supposed to make landfall until late this afternoon, so technically...”

“Okay, Mister Professor.” Dean watched Cas’ eyes drift down his body then back up to meet his eyes. “It’s still nasty as fuck out there.” Suddenly m uch  to o w arm, Dean turned and pulled on his plain white t-shirt. “Hurry with your shower and we can grab some breakfast. With this weather, I doubt we’ll be gator hunting today.” As if to prove his point, his phone rang.

It was his father.  “Hello.”

“All boats are grounded today. I know I told you finding the gator was top priority, but now we have a hurricane coming  in.  I’m about to  have  dispatch put out a call to everyone telling them to come to headquarters to discuss ou r game plan. I wanted you to have a heads up.”

“Thanks, Chief. I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Ten-four, son.”  _ Son _ , that’s not the first time John had called him that since this thing with the gator started. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. His father had always been hard on him, despite following in his footsteps. John had always drawn a line in the sand about keeping things professional in the workplace. It was just another thing to file away to think about later, maybe with a bottle of Jack to talk it over with . Whiskey was always a good listener.

Dean hung up and glanced at Cas, who’d been gathering his clothes to take into the bathroom . “Orders are in. We aren’t taking the boat out today. I’ve got to go to headquarters for a briefing about good ole Harvey.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Okay? That’s it. Aren’t you pissed or something?” Honestly, Dean was good with taking a break from the hunting. A part of him wanted to kill the motherfucker because, Christ, he was killing people now, but another part wanted to pretend it wasn’t real. He longed for the days when the most exciting thing to happen was arresting a poacher or tagging a guy for speeding in a no-wake zone.

“Why would I be pissed?” Cas held a pair of bright orange boxer briefs in his hand and Dean found that distracting. “We cannot control the weather any more than we can control what the alligator’s instincts are telling it.” 

“Sure... I guess. So, what are you going to do while I brave the high winds and rain?”

“ I might drive out to where the last attack happened. I would like to see it in the daylight.”

“What?” Dean asked incredulously, his body stiffening. “You don’t need to be doing that without me, Cas. Anything could happen, man. That thing is out there in the lake somewhere and you would be a tasty treat.” The thought of Cas out there searching alone terrified Dean and he didn’t know why. Cas wasn’t his responsibility. “Promise me, Cas.”

“Dean, I’ve been to portions of the Amazon where many things can kill you, eels, piranha, sn akes, and  I  came out unscathed. I  know how to handle myself.” He stepped closer to Dean as he spoke.

“Yeah, have you ever been around a twenty-foot alligator? Huh, Cas?” At Cas’ glare of defiance, Dean went on. “I know the answer to that. No. A big fat no. You are not going out there alone.” Fists clinched at his side, Dean mentally dared Cas to argue. Dean realized he'd taken a step toward Cas and now, they were less than a foot apart. God, he could just lean forward another couple of inches and...

Holding up his hands in supplication, Cas said, “Fine, Dean, I will stay safe.”

“Good.” Dean nodded curtly. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

In the parking lot, he made a dash for the truck. Water was pouring down the streets and into the drainage ditches. He unhitched the boat as quickly as he could, his rain slicker useless in the deluge. He slammed the door behind him and sat in the cab listening to the rain drumming down on the roof. “What a shitty day.” 

With the radio tuned to the weather, Dean drove through the downpour. Dean wasn’t surprised to hear that Houston wasn’t calling for an evacuation. They were Texans after all. Harvey was still  barreling toward the outer portion of the state and Galveston, San Jose, and Corpus Christi were gearing up for the Category Four storm. 

Headquarters was bustling with activity. He spied a blonde ponytail and made his way over to Jo. “Morning. Any coffee ? Cas didn’t bring me any this morning.” 

Jo stared back with an eyebrow cocked. “Cas brings you coffee? In bed?” She snickered. 

“Shut it,” Dean hissed under his breath, looking around for anyone who might be listening. “We just... we’re working together, same as you and me. You bring me coffee and we aren’t knocking boots.”

“Gross. Don’t even give me that mental picture, Winchester,” she said with  an exaggerated shudder.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” John Winchester’s voice rang out and everyone quieted. “We’ve all seen the weather reports. We’ve gotten word from the Governor’s office t hat  we w ill be a ssisting where needed. As of now, we have some water backing up in some of the low-lying neighborhoods and with that brings snakes, and...” he paused, his eyes meeting Dean’s from across the room. “and other wildlife out of their natural habitats. For now, we will be monitoring those areas. Once it makes landfall, I expect each and every one of you to find a safe place to hunker down. We will be here to assist our people on the coast once everything clears. Questions?” His gaze raked over the assembled game wardens.

“What about looters?” Someone called out.

“We are law enforcement officers, sworn to protect the people and property of Texas. Looters will be dealt with firmly. Stay alert out there. Anything else?”

There were a few more questions, then they were split up into teams of four to patrol a list of low- lying  areas in the Houston area. Dean was paired with Jo, Benny, and Garth. He expected his father had something to do with the assignment of teams. These were his friends and they made an effective force.

The four arranged themselves and their gear in Dean’s truck  and headed southeast. They’d been given a list of places to patrol. “The game plan is to ride around until it gets too bad to be out in this shit. Jo, where is our shelter?”

Jo pulled up her phone. “We’ll head to the Emergency Operations Center in Friendswood.” 

Dean drove slowly, but traffic was light. Most businesses were shut down and the roads were strangely empty. It was eerie. He noted a few gas stations and grocery stores still open, but even those weren’t busy. As they entered one of the neighborhoods on their list, Dean slowed even further. Ditches were full, roads already had a few inches of water standing, and the drainage systems were already clogged. He turned his lights on and cruised up and down the streets, looking for anything that needed their attention. 

" _ Harvey has intensified quickly this morning, and is now forecast to be a major hurricane at landfall, bringi _ _ ng  _ _ a _ _ _ _ lif _ _ e _ _ -threatening storm surge, rainfall, and wind hazards to portions of the Texas coast, _ " came a voice over the radio as they were eating their lunch from a MacDonald’s that had remained open.

“Hey, where’s  Castiel today?” Garth asked, leaning forward from the back seat. “Does he know where a shelter is?” Dean closed his eyes.  _ Shit _ . In all the rushing around, he’d forgotten about Cas. He thumbed his phone’s screen and waited while it rang. Once, twice, three times, then to voice mail. 

His phone vibrated to inform him of another call. It was Sam. “You safe?”

“I’m working. Dad called us all in to help with rescue. We are getting ready to hea d i n . ” A trashcan flew by, narrowly missing them. Shit, he needed to get them to safety. “Where are you?”

“Home. I talked to Dad and he’s at headquarters, but Kate is safe. She drove over to Austin to stay with a friend.”

“Good. Stay inside, Sammy.” He said goodbye, knowing Sam was safe in his home. It was north of Houston like his own and built like a brick shithouse.

Castiel took his shower after Dean left. He refused to think about seeing Dean shirtless. He’d told Dean he wouldn’t go out hunting without him, but if he was doing research... well, he didn’t _pinky_ swear. Using his GPS, he found the home of the elderly couple.  Tattered ribbons of police tape still clung to trees and shrubs. He moved down to the water’s edge and stood. He looked at his phone and increased the size of the topographical map  diagram  of the lake with his fingers. The bottom dipped down about twenty yards from shore. If the alligator was like most animals , it would be feeling the dip in the barometric pressure and seeking a safe place. His eyes narrowed as  he searched the map. 

He ran back to the rental car. There was a de ep - w ater slough not far from here. He had to think like the peanut-sized brain of an alligator. The road was narrow and he slowed. Scanning through the trees, he saw the slough. With the rain, it was above its usual bank. His phone rang just as movement caught his eye. There it was. Twenty something feet of prehistoric fury. It charged onto the road, blocking  Castiel’s way. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted under his breath. She flung her tail back and forth, jaws gaping wide. Good God, she was massive. “Okay, girl. I don’t want a fight,” he whispered as he put the car into reverse. 

Keeping one eye on the alligator and one on the rearview mirror, he eased his foot down on the accelerator. She moved to follow and his heart raced. With her size, she could crush the car or push it into the slough and he’d sink like a stone. Looking behind him, the road was straight. “One, two... three,” he shouted the last number, leaned on the horn and hit the gas. The car rocketed backwards and as he expected, the horn had given him the element of surprise. It disappeared into t he  fast - movin g water. When he reached the main street, he pulled over and rested his forehead on the wheel , breathing in and out slowly to calm his racing heartbeat.

Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise, he picked up the phone with shaking hands. The missed call was from Dean. 

As he drove through the empty streets of Houston, he had to fight to keep the car from veering into the wrong lane. The winds were getting stronger. Both hands clasped on the wheel, he peered up at the angry sky. The clouds were moving fast. At a red light, he stopped. No one was around, but he felt the need to obey the law. The lights themselves were almost sideways and he wondered if the cable would hold them much longer. Flicking on the radio, he heard a woman’s voice.

“ _ Winds on Galveston beaches wer _ _ e clocked at eighty miles per hour. If you haven’t sought shelter, please do so now. Emergency workers have been advised to clear the roadways for their own safety. _ ”

Was his motel safe? He pulled into the parking lot. There were a few cars still there. He ran through the rain, holding his messenger bag against his chest.  The lobby windows were covered with plywood. The staff had been busy while he was gone. Once inside, he found  the staff was huddled around a television mounted on the wall. His entry caused them all to turn. No one spoke for an instant and then everyone began talking at once.  Castiel held up his hand. “How many guests are still here?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the power went out. Someone screamed, but then the  manager spoke loudly over the chaos and noi se . “All the top floor rooms have been cleared. The few guests remaining have been moved to the ground floor.”  Castiel took a moment to talk about what plans the chain had in the event the motel sustained damage during the brunt of the storm, then he headed down the hallway only to a stop outside his door with a muttered oath. He looked at his keycard and sighed. No power, no entry. One of the housekeepers saw him. In broken Spanish, she told him the lock was backed up with batteries. He thanked her and told her to find a safe place. She nodded and left him.

With a wave of his card, the green light came on and he released the breath he’d been holding , then he sank down on the bed. He was wet, chilled, and he’d come face to face with a monster.  _ A monster _ . Not a word a herpetologist would usually use to describe one of the creatures he studied and loved, but this one had taken human lives. This one could have killed him. Slowly releasing the  hold he had on his messenger bag, he set it down beside him. Flexing his fingers, he picked up his phone. He should call Dean.

“Dean,” he said simply when the other man picked up the phone.

“Jesus Fuck, Cas, I’ve been calling you non-stop. Where the fuck  have you been?”  Castiel wanted to snap back, but the fear in Dean’s voice stopped him.

“I... I found the alligator. Or at least, temporarily. She’s in a deep-water slough about a mile north of...”

“Cas... you promised me. Where are you? Christ, are you still out in this shit?”

“I didn’t actually promise,”  Castiel said softly. 

There was silence on the line and  Castiel almost thought the call had been dropped or Dean hung up on him, but he could hear howling winds that didn’t coincide with the ones going on outside his own room.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“Sorry just doesn’t cut it, Cas. You could have been fucking killed.” He imagined Dean pacing and  running frustrated fingers through his hair.

“I’m safe. I’m at the motel. All the guests and staff are on the first floor.” An ominous sound came from behind the heavy curtains. “Dean, I’m safe. Please stay safe. I need to go.” He hung up and slid to the floor between the beds, dragging his bag with him. A second later, the window in his room made a loud pop and blew out, shards landing all around him. Rain and wind whipped inside, the noise level increasing se ve r al  decibels . C astiel crawled around, gathering his and Dean’s things, stuffing them into his luggage. With one last look at his room, he stood and ran into the hall. Other guests were gathered, huddled together. “The hall is the safest place,” he shouted, trying to reassure them. He slid down the wall, seated beside an overweight businessman in a rumpled suit.

The man looked up at him. “I should have gone home.”

“Probably, but we’ll be fine,”  Castiel said, praying that he was speaking the truth. Using his phone, he found  _ The Weather Channel’ _ s live feed. 

“ _ At three o’clock Hurricane Harvey made landfall on San Jose Island. The entire eastern seaboard of Texas is taking a hard hit as this Category Four plows into the state. All residents should be in sheltered areas at this time. _ ” Th e  meteorologist ,  Cast iel alwa ys forgot his name, was standing outside a tall building, his raincoat billowing out behind him. Rain blurred the video. In the street before him, water was over the curb, halfway over the man’s shoes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I didn't live through Hurricane Harvey liked the wonderful citizens of east Texas, I had to rely on what Google told me. I'm sure I got some facts wrong, and I apologize in advance for any errors.
> 
> Oh, and the collage is NSFW, or the bus, or sitting on the couch with your kids.

_ The storm was worsening. She rested under the water, the steep bank offering protection against the ebb and flow of the strong current. The need to kill was still pushing her. She couldn’t stay here long. Time passed and she’d surface on occasion to take a breath. There was a lull and she began to move south, into the wind, into the worst of it.  _

“I didn’t actually promise.” Dean heard the words and rage coursed through his body. Jo, sitting beside him at the Emergency Operations Center, put her hand on his arm, steadying him. He took a breath, ready to scream, but Cas spoke again.  “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing.”

He closed his eyes. “Sorry just doesn’t cut it, Cas. You could have been fucking killed.” All he could think about is Cas’ body, torn and bloody like  _ that _ ...  _ that _ thing’s victims. Outside the EOC, the noise grew louder. He looked around at the ragtag group of people in the large room. Most were First Responders, with a few families thro wn in. Cas should be here. With him.

“I’m safe. I’m at the motel. All the guests and staff are on the first floor. Dean, I’m safe. Please don’t worry about me. I need to go.” Dean lowered the phone, his expression murderous.

“Dean, are you okay?” Garth as ked  from th e bench beside him. 

“ Not re ally,” Dean admitted. He looked down at his watch. It was twenty to three. The hurricane was due to make landfall at three and already they were taking a beating. This place would hold, but the motel... shit. He took Jo’s hand in his. “Jo, I’ve  gotta go.”

“Dean, you can’t, man. It’s  suicide out there,” Benny said, shaking his head. 

His eyes were on Jo. He was looking for a sign. “If he was mine, I’d go,” she whispered.

Cas wasn’t his, not in that way. He could never be his, but if something happened to Cas... He stood up, pulled his slicker back on and nodded to his team. “I’ll check in when I can.”

The police officer by the door regarded him curiously. “Emergency,” was all Dean said. He held  onto  the shrubs as he  made his way to the truck. He was braced against the wind. The rain stun g his face and pelted down on him. The water was up to the hubcaps, but he didn’t want to think about that.  Finally inside, he felt the wind buffeting the vehicle. With a wet, shaking hand, he shoved the key into the ignition.

Dean made it to I45 without incident, but it was slow going. The streets were eerily e mpty.  Power poles were down  i n several areas and he had to skirt them, his hands tight on the wheel. The wipers were going at their highest speed, but couldn’t keep up with the pounding rain. He creeped a long doing no more than twenty miles an hour. The gusts of wind rocked the truck over and over again. “Come on, sweetie, you got this,” he murmured to the vehicle. 

The sudden squawk from his radio startled him and he almost ran off the road. “ _ 21-19, this is County Base. Do you copy _ _ ? _ ”

“21-19 County. Go ahead .”

“ _ Switch to Tact Channel, 21-19 _ .” Dean swore and switched to the private channel.

“What the fuck are you doing, Dean?” His father’s voice came over the radio loud and clear.

“Dad, Cas is at his motel. I have to make sure he’s okay.” He’d have to answer questions about his concern for Cas later, but for now, he was going to man up.

“Christ Almighty, which motel?” Dean stared at the radio uncomprehendingly. Did his dad just show concern for Cas?

“The Extended Stay off the toll road.”

“Okay, where are you now?”

“On 45.”

“Good, stay on it as long as you can. The areas around  Addicks are flooding and there’s talk of releasing  water. Be careful, son. And look, call when you get to him.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Dean said and hung up. Okay, was he in an episode of The Twilight Zone?

Two hours from the time he got into his truck, he pulled up to the front door of the Extended Stay. The front portico was listing badly, most of the windows were broken out except for those in the lobby which had been boarded up, and about a foot of water stood at the door. Luckily, his boat was still where he’d left her. He shut off the engine and took a deep breath. Cas was fine. He had to be.

He wrestled to door open and waded through to the front desk. Several people huddled together on the counters, trying to stay dry. A man stood up, feet sloshing in the water, and asked, “Is it over?”

“No, this is just the eye,” Dean responded. “Where are the guests?”

A young woman pointed to the door that lead to the guest rooms on the first floor. De an  sloshed through the water and threw it open. In the darkness, he could see some stacked furniture. H e unhooked his flashlight from his utility belt. “Cas?”

“Dean?” Thank God, Dean thought. He moved the beam until it lit on Cas, sitting atop a n  overturned dresser. Two others were with him. Down the hall, people began to call out questions. One in particular caught his attention.

“Is it ov e r? ” A  woman’s voice came out of the dark.

“Look, everyone, the eye is going over us now, so that just means that the wind will pick up again soon. This seems to be a safe enough place. I’m a game warden with the State of Texas and after the storm, I will make sure we get some teams in here to help you out. Cas, I need you to come with me.”

“Why does he get to leave?” Someone shouted.

“Because he’s an expert and we need his help with...”

“Game warden? Is this about that giant alligator? Is it near us?” Dean frowned at the hysteria in the unseen man’s voice.

“No, sir. You have nothing to worry about.” Cas had gotten off the piece of furniture and  was  coming toward him, water up to his ankles, his bags over his shoulders. He leaned closer, “Come on, let’s get  out of here.”

“But Dean,” Cas whispered, “what about all these peo p le?”

“They’ll be safe if they stay in the hall. I’ll alert my dad and he’ll make sure they are taken care of.” He took one of Cas’ bags and led the way back to the lobby. “This all your stuff?”

“Yes, and the things that you left behind.” Dean was suddenly slammed with the image of women leaving behind pieces of underwear so they had a reason to call their one-night stand. 

“Yeah, right. Thanks.” He threw up his hand to wave at the staff in the lobby area and informed them that help would be coming soon.

Outside, the rain was still coming down, but the wind had calmed. They both jumped in the truck and he backed up to the boat trailer. “What are you doing?”

“Taking the boat home. My house is going to be home base since the hotel is flooding.” Cas leaned back into the seat, eyes straight ahead. Dean wanted to yell at him about the stupidity of going out alone, but he was so relieved to have him safe beside him, the anger could wait.

Since Cas wasn’t talking and he didn’t trust himself not to yell, Dean put the call into his father, using his phone instead of the radio. “Dad, hey, I got Cas, but there’s about a dozen or so people at the hotel.”

“Was there damage?”

“Some wind damage and the water’s rising, but for now, I think they are safe if they stay put. I wanted to help more...” Dean had felt like shit for having to leave those people, but he couldn’t play God saying, “ Y ou, you, and you can come, but the rest of you are out of luck.”

“Good. That’s good. I need you to head to your house. That area just has rain and some high winds, nothing like the coast is getting. Once this whole thing is over, I’m going to need you well-rested to help with search and rescue. I’ll make sure the motel is high on the list for rescue.”

“Ten-four, Dad.” Dean hung up and headed home. With power lines down and some streets already flooded, it was slow going, but he made. Thankfully, the house hadn’t lost electricity. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes and get something to eat.”

Cas was still silent as he followed Dean inside. He pointed toward the guest room slash office. “You can put your stuff in there. Go ahead and get a shower if you want. Not sure how long we’ll have po wer.”

When Dean showed up,  Castiel had been elated. He was being rescued from the wet, uncomfortable spot on top of the dresser he’d shoved into the hallway. But then he realized he’d be leaving behind the others that were stranded with him. On one hand, he understood. Dean only had his truck. How would he pick the handful of others who would come with them? How would he choose who stayed and who was rescued? No,  Castiel understood, he just didn’t like the way it made him feel. Add to the fact that he knew Dean was pissed off at him for going out on his own. The best defense was to keep quiet.

In the bathroom of Dean’s house,  Castiel stared at his reflection. He could have died. He had no doubt the alligator could have destroyed the car with him in it. Being that close to death caused him to think about things he didn’t want to think about. He was forty-two. Single with no prospects. Sure, he had a great career that he enjoyed, but he still came home to an empty house and an empty bed. Dean’s face sprang to mind and he wanted to push the image away, but damn the man for being so fucking attractive. 

Huffing to himself, he stepped into the shower. 

When he was dressed in dry clothing, he left the safety of the bathroom to find Dean. It was time to face the music. The man in question was standing at the kitchen window watching the rain. He must have heard  Castiel because he inclined his head. “Feel better?”

“Yes. Dean, I...”

“Cas, I get...”

“You first,” Dean said softly. He reached into the fridge and brought out two beers, handing one to Castiel.

“I know what I did was stupid. There is no excuse.”

Dean stared at him for a minute, then turned his beer up to drink. When he swallowed, he blew out a breath and leaned against the counter, ankles crossed. “No, there’s not, but you’re here now.” 

It was the way Dean said the words, ‘ _ you’re here now _ ’ that broke  Castiel . The stress, the fear... all hit him at once and he was in Dean’s arms. He felt Dean set his beer down and then strong hands on his back, pressing him closer. “God... Cas...” Then Dean’s mouth was on his, taking  everything he had to give. His brain knew it was a mistake to get involved with a man who was only out for a good time, but his body had other ideas. 

The kiss was rough and needy, but  Castiel wasn’t interested in finesse. He wanted Dean. Hard and fast. Dean wasn’t a man who could  give h im love, but he could give him sex . He felt Dean’s hands scrabbling on his back, untucking his shirt. “Bedroom?”  Castiel mouthed the word over the skin below Dean’s ear.

“Yes,” Dean hissed and pulled back. His eyes seemed to ask  Castiel if he was sure.  Castiel was as unsure as he could be, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. He took Dean’s hand in his and led him down the hall. He gave the room a cursory scan. Queen bed, brown comforter, simple wooden furniture. “Cas...”

Castiel put his finger to Dean’s lips. “I don’t need words.” His eyes dropped to Dean’s belt buckle and his hands did their job. The button of his pants came next and then the sweet sound of a zipper. He shoved his hand inside, wrapping his fingers around Dean’s half-hard cock.  Castiel licked his lips in anticipation. It had been a long time.

Dean was breathing heavily, but standing still, his hands by his side. When  Castiel’s other hand moved up under his shirt, stroking over his belly and chest, he finally got with the program. His hands circled  Castiel’s wrists and moved him away. At his narrowed eyes, Dean grinned. 

“We need to get naked.” He proceeded to unbutton his shirt and let it drop to the floor.  Castiel needed no more invitation. He quickly undressed. He was proud of his body and worked hard for it, so shyness wasn’t in his vocabulary. He pulled his boxers and pants off with one graceful movement. Dean paused, his own pants halfway down his thighs. “ _ God damn _ .” He drew out the words in his smooth Texan drawl and it made  Castiel smile and lift an eyebrow.

“Like what you see?” He asked, stroking his hard, uncut cock.

“Fuck, yeah... want that inside me, babe.”  Castiel tried not to let his shock show. With Dean’s attitude towards male lovers, he expected him to be a top.  Castiel enjoyed both equally. He loved being filled by a strong male, but taking a man’s ass made him just as happy.

Dean kicked his pants aside and moved into  Castiel’s orbit again. His hands moving over  Castiel’s chest, his thumbs rubbing sensitive nipples. 

“ So fucking hot, Cas,” he whispered, giving  Castiel a wink before lowering his mouth to one of his nipples. He used his te eth to  bite gently an d then sucked it hard.  Castiel threw his head back and moaned. “Been...” Nip. “Wanting to...” Suction. “Do this...” Harder bite. “Since forever.”

Castiel cupped his hand over the back of Dean’s head and held him there because it felt so damn good. Dean wasn’t a lazy lover though because his hand was stroking  Castiel’s cock, while his other was fondling his heavy balls. “Dean,” he whispered the name like a prayer. “Want you.”

Curling his fingers into Dean’s hair, he tugged him up, claiming his mouth again. He pushed his tongue past Dean’s parted lips and loved how Dean moaned. He could taste the man’s passion... his need. He covered Dean’s hand that was still on  Castiel’s cock with his own. His long fingers entwining with those slickened by his precum. He hummed his satisfaction and felt Dean’s lips curve into a smile under his.

Without warning,  Castiel pushed Dean back, watching as he  bounced on the mattress,  his mouth  in a shocked ‘o’. Then he spread his legs wantonly, his hands  moving over his chest, his stomach, only to meet at his swollen cock. “Sucking you off will be on the menu for later,”  Castiel said huskily. 

“You going to stand there looking or are you going to fuck me?”  _ There _ was that cocky man that  Castiel liked so much. 

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you. Hope you don’t plan on walking any time soon.”  Castiel glanced at the nightstands. The one across the bed held a book and a half-empty bottle of water. He surmised that that’s where the supplies were kept. 

“Big talk for a nerdy professor,” Dean countered and  Castiel laughed softly. He nonchalantly walked around the bed, causing Dean to turn his head to watch. Opening the drawer,  Castiel found what he needed. An unopened box of condoms and a black bottle of Swiss Navy. Good choice,  Castiel thought before picking both items up. 

“Did I tell you that I almost went into pre-med? I loved anatomy class,”  Castiel said conversationally, as he opened the box of condoms and pulled out a  strip of three. “The human body is an amazing machine,” he continued, ripping one off and pushing the others back in the box. From his peripheral vision, he saw Dean watching every move he made, his body now turned toward  Castiel . 

“Take the prostate for example...” He knelt on the bed, hands still holding the condom packet and the lubricant. “A tiny gland that manufactures semen.” He laid his hand on Dean’s upper thigh, putting pressure on it, and Dean dutifully moved his knee up and back. “It protects sperm, but we don’t care about that, do we? Hmmm?” He was using his best teaching voice and Dean seemed to be under a thrall, even shaking his head at Castiel’s question. “No, all we care about...” He paused to squeeze some lube onto his fingers. “is the pleasure we derive from direct stimulation.” 

Dean licked his lips and  Castiel tracked the movement briefly before getting back into teacher mode. “In order to offer that pleasure...” His fingertips brushed over Dean’s tight entrance. “We must be careful. The sphincter muscle serves to guard the opening here.” He pressed inside and heard Dean’s soft gasp. “But with proper patience, it will soften and release to allow penetration.” 

“Fuck, Cas... can you just...” 

Castiel gave him a baleful look. “You’re being a bad student, Dean.” 

He watched something play over  Dean’s face and wasn’t too surprised whe n Dean said, “Yeah?  So, Teach, what are you going to do about it?”

Arching a brow,  Castiel , pulled his finger out and then pressed tw o in. “I have my ways.” His movements sped up, in and out, faster and faster until Dean was bucking off the bed, seeking it. Only then did he add a third, loving how Dean’s rim stretched and deepened in color. As if ordered to, Dean’s hands stayed at his sides, fists curled into the sheets. He’d been deliberately staying away from Dean’s prostate, but he felt Dean was ready and applied pressure. Dean gave a guttural cry and his back arched off the mattress. 

In and out, stretching until Dean’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his knuckles white where fists  clenched the bedding. Yes, he was ready. One hand still fuc king into  Dean’s pliant body,  Castiel used his  other and his teeth to rip open the  condom . He watc hed Dean’s eyes riveted on his movements. Oh,  _ yes, _ he was ready. 

Castiel rolled the condom down his length and then squirted more lube onto his hand. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he slicked himself. Then, and only then, did he pull his fingers from Dean’s beautifully open hole. “God, Cas, fuck me,” Dean panted, drawing his knees up to his chest, baring himself for  Castiel .

He crawled into position and rubbed the head of his cock over Dean’s balls, loving how Dean growled in frustration. With a huff of laughter, he lined up and pressed inside. God, the tightness took his breath away. He watched as  inch by inch, he disappeared into Dean’s perfect ass. When his thick bush was finally resting on Dean’s tight sac, he inhaled deeply and willed himself to last longer than a few strokes.

Covering Dean’s hands that were still clasped around his calves,  Castiel withdrew an inch, gauging Dean’s reaction. Was he ready? Dean’s bottom teeth were embedded in his lower lip, but his eyes were locked on  Castiel’s . Had they always been this green? He sank inside again. Out a few inches, then in. 

He moved his hands up to wrap around Dean’s ankles and pulled out until  just the head of his cock was inside. He broke eye contact to glance down to the place their bodies were joined. A second ticked and then he slammed inside with everything he had. Dean grunted, then dug his fingers into  Castiel’s hips. That was all the encouragement he needed. Each thrust caused Dean to move over the bed until his head was against the wooden headboard.  Castiel reached up and gripped it with both hands, using it as leverage. Both men were gasping for air, but he didn’t relent. “Touch... yourself,”  Castiel managed between breaths. He was close, so fucking close. Heat coiled in his belly and his balls were tight.

“You  gonna come?” Dean panted out. 

“Soon... close...”  _ That damn smirk on Dean’s face _ . Damn him. Even after fucking him hard,  the bastard was still the same cocky son of a bitch  Castiel was falling for. Shock must have registered on his face, because Dean’s movements faltered, his hand still on his cock. “Damn it, Dean. Come.”

Dean’s hand flew up and down his shaft, his back suddenly arched off the bed and he cried out  Castiel’s name, cum leaving strips over his stomach and chest. The man’s body tightened around him and he closed his eyes as his orgasm rolled over him, seizing his muscles to the point of pain. Lightheaded, he held himself upright by his grip on the headboard. Breaths coming in loud pants, sweat running down his face. The heady smell of sex made his nostrils flare. He’d had sex with Dean. Something he told himself he wouldn’t do. It didn’t mean anything... not to Dean. But to him, it meant the world. 

He pulled out and rolled to the side of the bed, sitting with his back to Dean. He’d screwed up. He’d gone and fallen for a man that couldn’t... wouldn’t ever love him. He stood on shaky legs and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He took the condom from his now-flaccid cock and pitched it into the trash, refusing to look into the mirror. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, head in his hands. 

How long he sat there, he didn’t know. A minute? An hour? Eventually, a sharp knock came on the door. “Hey, you okay? I need to clean up...  ya know?” If things weren’t bad enough, now he came across as a selfish lover.

“Oh, sorry.” To make things less awkward, he flushed the toilet, pulled himself together, and opened the door with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I...”

“Hey, no worries, man. When you  gotta go, you  gotta go.”


	10. Chapter 10

_ She surfaced in the darkness and tested the air. The storm  _ _ had moved on, but the rain pounded steadily.  _ _ She  _ _ plowed  _ _ through _ _ the water _ _ . Wh _ _ at  _ _ was _ _ once land was no _ _ w gone. Throughout the night she moved toward the smell of human. When the sun rose, she was surrounded by  _ _ the scent of man, their machines, their food, their bodies. It drove her on.  _ _ She glided, her tail propelling her, her claws barely scraping the ground beneath her. Then she  _ _ heard it, distress. Something weakened. Prey. _

“ You  gonna come ?” Dean’s balls were about to burst. He jacked his cock faster. Cas was nailing his prostate with each fucking thrust. 

“Soon... close,” Cas gasped out the words. If Dean hadn’t been watching and waiting for Cas to come, he would have missed it. His eyes widened and his features registered  sh ock , or something like it. Definitely not a ‘big O’ face.  “Damn it, Dean. Come.” Cas’ words got him back in the game and a second or two later , he came.  _ Hard _ . Damn, he’d almost blacked out with the force of it. That was a first. 

Cas, sweaty, but gorgeous was still driving into him and Dean gave a tired smile when he sucked in a breath and his whole body seized.  _ There _ was the ‘O’ face. His own breath coming in painful, gasping pants, he let his head relax on the pillow, his heart racing. 

He winced when Cas pulled out. Dean reached up to pull Cas down into his arms, but the other man rolled to the side of the bed, feet on the floor. He stared rapt at the long lines of Cas’  back, the strong muscles bathed in perspiration. 

Dean watched as Cas stood and strode to the master bathroom, shutting the door with a click. He settled back, one hand behind his head. He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips. Damn, that was amazing. He knew Cas would be awesome. And shit, that little lectur e ? Dean would lay money that every student in Cas’ classes was in lust with the man, male or female. Jesus, Dean was hot for a professor. Who would have thought? 

The seconds turned to minutes and Dean glared toward the bathroom door. His cum was cold and sticky on his stomach and he needed to  p ee too . He’d thought Cas was going to return with a washcloth. That’s what he would have done if the tables were turned. Got to take care of your lover. There was a code of some sort, wasn’t there? With a huff, Dean got out of bed and knocked. “Hey, you okay? I need to clean up...  ya know?”

From inside came the muffled, “Oh, sorry.” Dean heard the toilet flush. Guy must have had to take a shit. That was cool. Everyone had to at one time or another. The door opened and Cas was wearing a shy smile. “Sorry, I...”

“Hey, no worries, man. When you  gotta go, you  gotta go.” Dean let the other man walk past him and stepped onto the tile floor. Drying cum wasn’t for sissies. 

When he came out of the bathroom, Cas wasn’t there. Narrowing his eyes, he opened a drawer and pulled on some sweatpants. His mood had shifted down from the high of great sex. 

Dean found him in the guest room, fully dressed, and staring at his phone. “Hey, everything okay?”

Cas looked up. “Yes.” While Dean’s question was simple, he expected more than a one-word answer.

“You sure? I mean... was...” Dean stopped. He didn’t want to sound  needy. He despised people who asked if they were ‘ _ good _ ’ after sex.

“I’m fine, Dean.” Cas wasn’t looking at him now. His eyes were back to his phone. “We both needed to alleviate some stress. Sex is a good way to do that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to answer some emails.” And just like that Dean was dismissed. He continued to stand there and stare. What the fuck? Cas kept typing and finally, Dean backed away. 

In the kitchen, his favorite room in the house, he released his breath and leaned against the counter. Why was he feeling so... so... let down? Disappointed? Sad? It’s not like he wanted Cas to declare...  _ Shit _ . He got what he wanted, right? Sex with no strings. 

Not knowing what to do, Dean turned on the small television mounted under his cabinets and began to prepare a meal. Cooking was is go-to for stress relief. According to Cas, it was sex, but Dean wasn't feeling relaxed anymore.

“ _ Hurricane Harvey continues to batter the Texas coast, bringing with it storm surge and flooding. While it has been downgraded to a Category 3,  _ _ storm _ _ surge and extremely high winds still pose a  _ _ danger _ _ . _ _ Please stay inside.” _ Dean glanced up at the screen. They were showing pictures from San Jose Island, or what was left of it. He continued to chop up carrots and potatoes. The meat was braising and the rest of the ingredients for his Irish stew were set out on the counter. 

Another hour passed and Cas hadn’t left the guest room. Stirring the pot once more and checking the heat, Dean sighed and slowly walked down the hall. He knocked on the door. When had Cas closed  it? “Hey, Cas, dinner will be ready in ten.”

“Thank you,” came the muffled reply. 

“Welcome,” Dean muttered and went to set the table, taking a minute to look out the window. It was hard to believe that Porter, Texas, a mere seventy miles from the coast, was just having what appeared to be a bad thunderstorm. 

He heard a door open and then Cas appeared in the doorway. “You cooked.”

“Yeah, you need to do that if you want to eat,” Dean said, unable to mask his sarcasm.

“Can I do anything to help?” Cas asked, not making eye contact. 

Dean turned back to the stove. “Nope, I’ve got this. You can just have a seat.” He didn’t want to admit it, but this sucked. Sex had ruined their friendship. A fan-fucking- tastic roll in the hay had destroyed what he had with Cas. How could Cas go from sexy professor... and God damn was that hot... to the uptight dude that first arrived in Houston?

Both men ate in silence, the slide of cutlery against bowls the only noise. It was the most uncomfortable Dean had ev er be en , and he’ d had plenty of morning- afters . The ringing of Dean’s phone caused them to startle in their seats. Happy for the reprieve, Dean jumped for it. “Lo.”

“The Governor is calling on all state agencies to aid in rescue. The wind is dying down, but the water is continuing to rise. I want you to lead a team to help ASAP.” John’s voice was curt and to the point.

“Sure thing, Chief. Just tell me when and where.”

“Is the boat okay?”

“Yes. It’s sitting in my driveway.”

“Good, I knew I could count on you to be sensible.” Dean leaned against the counter. Was that a compliment from his father? “Dispatch will be placing radio call-outs tonight. I want to utilize as much daylight as we can, so I want all teams out by seven a.m. sharp. I’ll have your team meet you at a safe location. I’ll text you as soon as I can.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready.”

“And Dean?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Stay safe out there.”

“You too, Dad.” He knew his father. John  Winchester wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines giving orders. He’d be on a boat along with the rest of them.

He huffed out a breath and set his phone on the kitchen counter. Cas had been watching him the entire time, so he met his gaze. “I guess I’ll be doing search and rescue for the next few days.”

“I will volunteer to assist,” Cas said stiffly, standing up. He picked up his and Dean’s bowls and carried them to the sink. Dean let him. 

“Cas, you’re not officially...”

Cas rounded on him. “I want to help, Dean. I live in Florida for Christ’s sake. I know my way around boats and have volunteered in several rescue and cleanup operations. Please let me do this.” They shared a long staring match, Dean hating to be the first to surrender. 

“Damn it, Cas,” he growled, running his hand through his hair. 

“When do we leave?” Dean sighed, knowing he’d lost the argument.

“We need to be out there by six-thirty and actively searching by seven. There’s a lot of ground to cover.” He stopped talking as another breaking report came on the TV.

_ “ _ _ In an unprecedented move, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers will be releasing water early Monday from two overfilled reservoirs in west Houston. The release is necessary, officials have said, to to avoid a collapse of the reservoir's dam _ _ and inundate downtown Houston, however it will possibly put several thousand homes in the area at further risk. _

_ Officials said the water levels in the Barker and Addicks reservoirs have increased dramatically since the hurricane’s onset and the water levels are increasing at a rate of more than six inches per hour, a spokesman for the Corps told journalists via email.”  _

“Fuck,” Dean exclaimed as he moved quickly to the living room to grab his laptop. His Internet connection was spotty due to the weather, but he finally got a map of the Houston area to load. Cas was leaning over his shoulder to see. Dean pointed to both the Barker and the  Addicks reservoirs. “They’re releasing water here and here, then this whole area floods." His fingers moved over the screen. "I get why they need to do it, but fuck, man.”

Cas moved Dean’s finger from the thumbpad and enlarged the map. “The alligator was last seen here. With all the water, it will be able to travel faster and easier.”

“We can’t worry about it now. The people are our Number One priority.”

“I know,” Cas whispered, but Dean was just as worried as Cas. The alligator could go on a rampage and they wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Castiel knew hiding ou t  in  the guest  room and ignoring Dean was childish. Dean didn’t do anything wro ng . They  w ere both into it.  Castiel was just more invested in ‘it’. He’d have to distance himself without being rude. He only had to find and remove the threat of the alligator, and then he could go home and lick his wounds. His heart would heal.

Dean’s voice came through the bedroom door he’d closed earlier to offer him privacy to wallow in his brief bout of self-pity.  “Hey, Cas, dinner will be ready in ten.”

“Thank you,” he called out and leaned back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “God, give me strength.” His phone rang, startling him out of his brooding. “Hello, Mom.”

“Please tell me you’ve finished tagging your alligators and are safe at home in Florida.” 

“No... and no.”

“Chuck, your son is still in Houston. In the middle of that hurricane,” Naomi Novak screeched into his ear. 

“How come he’s always my son, when he’s in trouble?”  Castiel heard his father say. 

Obviously ignoring her husband, Naomi turned her attention back to  Castiel . “Well, since you answered the phone, I’m assuming you are in a safe place.”

“Yes, Mother, I’m staying in Porter, Texas. I t wasn’t hit hard and isn’t in the flooded areas.” He didn’t mention he was staying with the game warden. They’d spoken a few times since he got to Houston and being his mother, she’d picked up on his latent interest in Dean.

“When will you be going back home? The term will be starting soon, won’t it?” 

“I have a project to complete here first. I have my TA to cover the first couple of classes of the term if I’m not there and I can always Skype in.”

“You know best,  Castiel . I’m just glad you are safe. Please call when you get home.”

“I will. Love to you and Dad.”

“I love yo u  too .” He could always count on his parents to be supportive. He wished Dean could have had the same support to be whomever he wanted to be. Releasing a tired breath, he got off the bed and made his way to the kitchen. The aroma was amazing and made his stomach growl. When had he eaten last?

“You cooked,”  Castiel said, coming into the warm room. 

“Yeah, you need to do that if you want to eat.” 

Castiel didn’t react to the heavy sarcasm. He deserved it. To make amends, he asked, “Can I do anything to help?” Dean told him no and to have a seat, so that’s what he did. The small table was set for two.

The silence between them was painful and  Castiel searched his mind to form a sentence that would put things right between them. Nothing came to mind. When Dean’s phone rang, both of them jumped in their seats as if stung. Yes, the tension was thick and God, he hated it.

Dean stood and grabbed it from the counter. “Lo.”  Castiel watched his face as he listened. “Sure thing, Chief. Just tell me when and where.” Ah, his father, Chief Winchester, a toxic male in  Castiel’s opinion. Not bothering to listen to the rest,  Castiel slumped in his chair. 

Dean said his goodbyes and then faced  Castiel . “I guess I’ll be doing search and rescue for the next few days.” He enjoyed winning the small argument and was proud to h elp  with the flood relief teams.  Smiling slightly,  Castiel ran some water in the sink and began washing the few dishes they managed to dirty.

The news report interrupted them and when Dean stepped briskly out of the room, he followed. He was already seated on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table.  Castiel leaned over to get a view of the map that eventually loaded onto the screen. He was worried. The alligator would be restless because of the storm and she would be on the move. 

She could be anywhere,  Castiel thought to himself as he gazed at the map.  _ Anywhere _ .

At six the next morning, Dean rapped his knuckles on the guestroom door. “Up and at ‘ em ,” he called jovially through the door. They’d seemingly called a truce last night while they watched an old romantic comedy on television. Nothing was said out loud, but the tension wasn’t there anymore and for that,  Castiel was grateful. 

He showered and threw on a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt in khaki. He might not be  _ official _ , but he could still look like he belonged. He met Dean in the kitchen. Coffee had been brewed and a homemade breakfast sandwich was waiting on a small plate. Dean was already halfway through his. With mouth still full, Dean said, “Get your coffee to go. I don’t know how the roads are and we need to meet the guys by quarter of seven.” He shoved a travel mug over to  Castiel and he quickly filled it from the pot, adding a splash of milk and ample sugar. 

Still eating his sandwich,  Castiel slammed the truck door and Dean started the engine. They listened to the radio in awed silence as the DJ talked about the flooding and the raising death toll. As they drew nearer to the downtown Houston area, both men sat up straighter, their eyes roaming over the devastation. While the city hadn’t gotten the brunt of the storm, the damage was horrific. Most of the roads were underwater and Dean carefully made his way through. 

One of the city’s fire stations had been set up as a meeting point and that’s where Dean came to a stop. Other trucks with the state’s insignia sat in the parking lot.  Castiel saw Benny,  Ga rth, and  Jo talki ng to a handful of fire fighters leaning against their engine inside the bay. All looked just as shell-shocked as he and Dean. None seemed to care as the steady rain fell.

Castiel hung back while the game wardens got their gear stowed into Dean’s boat. He was concerned when he saw the automatic weapons slung into a compartment under one of the seats. When Jo walked by him, he touched her arm. “Why the guns? Isn’t this search and rescue?

“It is, but we’re law enforcement first. We’ll be watching for looters. Nothing brings out the unsavory parts of humanity than a natural disaster.” She looked up at him then, studying his expression. “I’m glad you’re coming with us. We’ll need all the help we can get.” She gave his bicep a squeeze and headed for the boat. He followed. 

Dean gave a nod as Benny loaded a cooler of bottled water and a box of emergency blankets on board. “Okay, I’ll drive us as far southeast as we can go and then we’ll take the boat. He held up his phone. Reports are coming in of families trapped by the rising water, so we’re going to be busy today.” Jo swung up into the cab and  Castiel watched as Benny and Garth climbed into the bed.  Castiel decided to follow their lead. Dean climbed into the driver’s seat and a moment later, the truck headed out. 

“Fuck,” Benny said as they passed a small shopping center. The roof was gone and water wa s a t  l e as t two feet deep in the parking lot. Garth shook his head, but stayed silent. 

It would be a long day and  Castiel knew the days to come would be bad, but the silver lining was always there. This would bring out the best in people. Helping neighbors and cleaning up. He’d seen it over and over again. Humanity disappointed him sometimes, but it wouldn’t for Houston. The great city would come back, better and stronger than before .

As the water grew deeper, Dean slowed the truck and parked it on a small knoll. Benny and Garth leapt off the bed and began to untie the boat. They were standing in about eighteen inches of water now. 

Castiel looked around. This  was an area filled with businesses with a few warehouses set back off the road. It wasn’t likely they woul d find any one here, but he knew why Dean picked it to launch the boat. Once it was off the trailer, he could move the truck to a raised area to wait for their return. 

They climbed in, donning their life vests. Dean took the wheel and started the engine. Slowly, he steered them down what once was a busy street. He flipped the light bar on and the strobe’s danced over the deserted buildings.  Castiel hoped all who worked here were safe with their families. The sound of the motor echoed off the wall of one of the warehouses. The water here was over the hood of a deserted car. About three feet,  Castiel predicted. 

The next warehouse was larger, with bay doors left open. Dark water filled the area inside and out. Out of the corner of his eye,  Castiel saw movement. An alligator, young, only about two foot in length. He pointed. “Floods bring wildlife into areas they wouldn’t normally be. Snakes, turtles...” he let his voice trail off. He’d heard something. By the way Dean and Benny were searching the area, they’d heard it too. 

Dean cut the engine. “Anyone... help me... please.” The voice sounded from inside the warehouse. Dean put the boat in gear and guided it into one of the bay doors. Benny manned a spotlight and shown it over the water.

“This is the Texas Game Wardens. Where are you?” Dean shouted and his words echoed in the cavernous building.

“Over here.” It was a woman’s voice. Benny followed it with his light and there she was, head barely above the water. It shouldn’t be that deep,  Castiel thought logically. Dean steered closer and then let the motor idle. She looked up at  them. “My foot... I was trying to get my cat, but the storm scared her... and then the wall came down.” She began to sob.

“Hey, we’re here and we’re going to get you out,” Dean assured her. Garth was already pulling a Scuba mask out of a compartment. “You got this?” Dean asked him and Garth nodded, already donning the mask. Benny handed him a bright yellow dive light.

Once he was in the water to his waist, Garth spoke to the young woman. “I’m going to go down and see what we’re looking at. It should take us no time to get you out of this mess.” He gave those in the boat a thumb’s up and sank under the water.  Castiel could see the beam from the light bob and then stop. Garth surfaced a second later, lifting the mask off his face. “Okay, her foot is jammed between two eight by eights. I think it’ll take two of us to get them moved.”

Dean nodded brusquely. “I’ll take one. Garth can get the other, and Benny, you pull her up in when she’s free. Cas, you and Jo hold the boat steady.” In response, Jo reached overhead and latched a tow rope around the cleats on the boats bow and tied it off to another piece of wall sticking out of the water. Cas did the same with the stern. When he turned around, Dean was already in the water. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very gruesome and we have a minor character death.

Dean took the woman’s hand in his. “We’ll have you free in no time.” He nodded to Garth and both men went under the water. Without a mask, Dean had a hard time making out the way the beams were sitting on the warehouse floor. He surfaced, then looked up. “We’re going to have to throw a rope over that rafter and lift them one at a time,” he told Benny. The big Cajun nodded and grabbed a coil of rope out from a storage bin. 

It took three tries, but Benny finally had the rope where they needed it. Dean went back under to tie it around the topmost rafter. He came up and nodded. “Ready.” He kept his eyes on the woman as Benny put all his weight into it. Cas reached around and both began to inch the heavy wooden beam off the pile. “What’s your name, Sweetheart,” Dean asked her when she gasped in pain. He needed to keep her talking. Once the pressure was released, she might go into shock. 

“Jannie,” she whimpered. 

“Well, Jannie, we’re going to get you out of here pretty quick. Just hold on a little longer. Can you do that for me?” Dean brushed a lock of wet hair off her face. She nodded, but didn’t speak. 

Once the beam was clear, Garth and Dean pushed it away and untied it, only to begin the process over with the next one. When it was lifted, Dean pulled Jannie out and held her as she sobbed. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay now.” 

Garth untied the other beam and tossed the rope to Cas. Benny was bending to reach for the woman when Cas shouted. “Get in the boat. Now. Now.” The last word was tinged with fear. Dean followed Cas’ gaze and froze. Just inside the bay door and closing fast, was the alligator. The woman in his arms began to scream and claw at him. Garth grabbed at her, pulling her away. 

Dean kept his eyes trained on the approaching monster, belting out orders. “Garth, get her in the boat, Benny, Jo, untie the God damn boat.” He knew they were sitting ducks. 

Over the woman screaming and his team working to get them mobile, he heard Cas’ voice. “Dean, give me your hand.” No, not until Garth and the victim were safe. He shoved Garth closer to the boat, but the woman was fighting them in her panic. The alligator was only ten feet away. Christ, he thought, his eyes finding the creature’s. The gaping maw opened and the water frothed as the thing took the woman in its jaws. 

“No,” Dean screamed, reaching for her instinctively, already knowing it was too late. Blood gushed out of her mouth and her eyes. 

He couldn’t look away. The sound of teeth grinding flesh and bone turned his stomach. “Dean, please.” He felt Cas’ hand curl around his arm. 

“Garth, come on,” Dean shouted, pulling a stunned Garth toward him. “Get in the boat. Get in the boat.” 

The rat-a-tat-tat of an automatic weapon echoed loudly off the warehouse walls. Bullets sprayed the water and the alligator’s tough hide. It let the broken torso of the woman, Jannie, drop from its jaws and lunged again, a wall of water hitting Dean and knocking him back against the boat. Someone grabbed a handful of his shirt and started dragging him up. He reached out for Garth, but the man was gone. The dark water stained red in the glare from the spotlight. “No.” The word was ripped from his throat. He struggled against the person holding him. “Noooo,” his cry breaking into a broken sob as the monster shook the lifeless body of his friend. 

He was hauled unceremoniously into the boat and the engine roared to life. Jo and Cas had dragged him aboard while Benny took the helm. “Go. Go. Go,” Cas shouted and Benny gunned the motor. The boat veered away from the animal, its prop scraping the bottom of the warehouse floor at one point, the noise like nails on a chalkboard. 

They burst through the bay door with the alligator in pursuit. Dean saw a scrap of khaki hanging from its mouth, then realized it was Garth’s arm. His stomach rolled and he leaned over the side of the boat and threw up. He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. Someone was rubbing his back and he turned his head. It was Cas. The man was pale, but his eyes held compassion and for that, Dean had to look away. 

The alligator was falling further behind, but Benny didn’t slow. They rounded the corner by a strip mall and Dean saw another boat. It was heading the way they’d just come. He waved them down. “Turn around.” Dean flashed him his badge. These might be good old Texans just out to help those less fortunate, but he was pulling rank. Something in the way he looked must have told them he wasn’t kidding around. The guy driving nodded curtly and then gunned his engine in the opposite direction. It was only then that Dean looked down and saw blood stains on his shirt and pants. Jannie’s. He remembered feeling the warmth spray against his face. 

The four of them sat in silence, the water lapping against the boat. It was Jo that finally spoke. “Dean, we have to call in.” He nodded. He should have given the other boaters a reason before sending them away, but his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. He blew out a breath and dug his phone out of the small bin by the throttle. Benny shifted to give him room. He made the call. 

“Dad... it’s Dean... I need to report...” He couldn’t find the words. A gentle hand took the phone. 

“Chief Winchester, this is Castiel Novak. We have had a visual of the alligator. It was...” 

Cas looked around and Benny said, “Outside the Greens Port Industrial Park. West side.” 

Cas repeated it. “We shot at it, but it didn’t make a difference. No. No, Sir.” There was a long pause and then Cas said, “And Chief, it got Garth and a female flood victim.” Dean heard his father’s raised voice, but couldn’t make out the words. “Yes. I have a plan.” Dean looked up, eyes narrowing. What plan? “He’s shaken. He was in the water with... I will, Sir.” Cas handed him back his phone. 

“So, what now, Novak?” Benny asked for all of them. 

“I will need explosives and an animal carcass. The fresher the better. And blood.” Strangely enough, no one questioned the list. Dean opened his text messages and began to type. When he was done, Cas explained his plan to them. It was a solid one. 

Back at the fire station, they waited with coffee provided by the firefighters. At three, a pickup truck pulled into the east end lot. The flood waters had reached the street and Dean’s boat was tied off at a telephone pole standing tall out of the water. Dean walked out into the rain and watched as Ketch alit from the cab. “Winchester.” 

“Ketch. You got what I ordered?” 

In lieu of answering, Ketch walked around to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. A dead cow, a small cooler, and a cardboard box wrapped in plastic were in the bed. Knowing not to ask questions, Dean tapped the box with his hand.

“C4, detonator, and a timing switch,” Ketch said. “You ever used it before?” 

“Nope,” Dean said. He opened the cooler and saw two clearplastic bags, both filled with blood. “I hope this came from a butcher.” 

Ketch gave him a crooked smile. “No questions.” He looked around and his eyes roamed over the ragtag group of people standing inside the bay leaning against the red fire engine. “We taking your boat?” 

“There’s no we. Just give me a crash course in explosives and we’re done.” 

Ketch laughed softly and shut the tailgate. “That’s not how this works, Winchester.” Dean knew this was another argument he wouldn’t win and he didn’t have the energy to try. 

“We’re going after the alligator,” he stated simply. 

Ketch looked away, nodded, and pursed his lips before speaking again. “The one from the news?” 

“The same,” Dean responded. “You up for it?” 

“Let’s get this hunk of meat in your boat.” Dean watched as the man got behind the wheel and guided the truck up next to Dean’s boat. The water came up over the vehicle’s axles. 

Dean waved his team over. “We need to load up. That carcass probably weighs about three hundred pounds or more.” The cow had been field dressed. The lower legs removed and it had been gutted leaving a large cavity for the explosives. 

In the end, it took the four men and Jo to heave the dead animal into the back of the boat. “She’s going to be riding low, brotha, I hope we don’t have to outrun that thing,” Benny drawled, tapping the side of the gunwale. 

“If Cas says it will work, it’ll work,” Dean said, lifting the cooler. He left the explosives for Ketch to handle. He’d given brief introductions. Names only. If anyone was curious about Ketch, they kept it to themselves. 

Dean glanced up at the sky. They had about three hours of daylight l e ft. Most times Texas summer days lasted until nine or so, but with it being overcast, they’d be lucky to be able to see until about six or so. He wasn’t chancing being out after dark with that monster loose. 

Benny’s prediction was correct. The stern of the boat was low in the water. “I’ll need everyone up front to balance the weight.” Cas and Jo crawled up to the bow. Ketch set the box of explosives next to Dean and nodded. 

“Let’s go get this motherfucker,” he said, slapping Dean on the back. Dean shook his head. Ketch was a freak.

Dean steered the boat to the place they’d last seen the alligator and slowed. All eyes were on the water. Cas pointed. “Go in that direction.” 

“Why?” Ketch asked, his foot propped on the explosives like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“She’ll be heading for deeper water. The map showed a retention pond in the industrial park. I think she’ll spend the night there.” Ketch stared at Cas for a brief moment and then shrugged. Dean didn’t like having Ketch anywhere near Cas, but it couldn’t be helped. 

Dean kept the boat at idle speed until they neared the fence that surrounded the industrial park. Part of it was ripped down. “Cas was right,” he said, his pride showing. Ketch smirked and once again looked over at Cas, his gaze moving up and down Cas’ body. “Don’t even think about it,” Dean whispered hotly, his teeth clinched together. 

Ketch winked at him. “Hands off. I get it, Dean.” A chill went up Dean’s spine at the way Ketch said his name. Memories of one night, one drunken night in the Middle Eastern desert, came flooding back. 

“Here,” Cas said, oblivious to the tension between Dean and Ketch. Dean shut the engine off and Cas moved closer. “We need to get the explosives inside the cavity and set the detonator.” To Ketch, he asked, “Can you detonate it manually?” 

“Of course, handsome.” Dean seethed, but kept his mouth shut. Calling attention to it wasn’t an option. 

Working side by side, Cas and Ketch placed three packages of C4 into the cavity and used twine to tie it to the animals exposed ribs. Once that was done, they shoved the carcass over the side of the boat. It splashed and Dean looked around, half expecting the alligator to leap out of the water. Benny had tied a rope around the cow’s head. The plan was to play out the line enough that the explosion won’t harm them, but keep the alligator from dragging it down into the depths of the pond. 

“Now, what?” Dean asked. “We just dump the blood into the water?” It reminded him Shark Week. Who knew alligators were drawn to the smell of blood, just like Jaws. 

“Not quite,” Castiel said, hefting one of the gallon bags into his arms. “We need to move closer and begin pouring small portions of the blood into the water near the edge of the pond. Essentially leaving a trail to the cow. Once she is visible, we will start moving away from the bait, dragging it behind us until we are clear of any buildings.” He pointed to a large open area. “There.” 

By the looks of the landmarks sticking out above the water, it had been a parking lot before the storm flooded the city. 

Everyone nodded their approval of his plan and Benny began moving the boat forward, as Dean let the rope play out little by little until the cow was several yards behind them, gently bobbing on the surface of the water. 

Castiel kept his mind on the task at hand, not willing to relive that moment when Dean had almost been killed. And poor Garth. Dean seemed fine now, but Castiel knew grief would hit him, Benny, and Jo later. He hoped Dean’s family would be there for him. 

He held up his fist and Benny stopped the boat. Castiel stood up and gazed out over the pond. He didn’t see her, but he felt her presence. She was there waiting. They were well over the pond now. Castiel could tell by the way the color of the water deepened. He leaned over the stern and used his pen to puncture the bag. The coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils and it began to flow into the water. 

“Let’s go, Benny,” Dean said behind him and the boat began to move back toward the bait. 

When the first bag was empty, Dean was there with the other one. Once Castiel had it flowing into the water, Dean put his hand on the small of his back. Castiel tried not to think about the warm presence there. He turned his head to see how close they were getting to the bait when Dean grabbed his belt and pulled him backwards, his ass slamming to the bottom of the boat. “Dean,” Castiel started angrily, but then he saw her, a mere ten feet from them. 

“Go... Fuck,” Dean shouted, still holding onto Castiel’s belt. Benny pulled the throttle back and the outboard roared to life. Both Castiel and Dean skidded across the bottom of the boat, blood from the ruptured bag spewing all over them. They flew past the carcass and the rope went taut. The motor whined with the increased drag. By then, both of the men were kneeling in the boat. 

“Holy fuck, look at that thing,” Ketch shouted, grinning like an idiot. Who was this man? And how did Dean know him? C4 wasn’t just something you could pick up at the corner store, then again, neither was a cow carcass. 

“Slow down now,” Castiel shouted above the noise from the motor. Benny obeyed instantly. Dean was leaning against the side of the boat next to him, their shoulders touching. 

“What now, Cas?” 

“We pray she takes the bait.” The cow had been pulled a short distance and the rope was taut from where it was tied to the gunwale. The alligator had seen it, but wasn’t moving nearer. Castiel held his breath. 

“What if she doesn’t?” Dean whispered. 

“I don’t have a Plan B,” Castiel said softly. 

The alligator began to growl, a deep bass sound. “What’s she doing?” Jo asked from somewhere back in the boat. 

“She’s threatening us. Warning us away.” 

“I’d love to take her up on her offer,” muttered Benny. 

No one in the boat was moving and that was a good thing. The alligator needed to take the bait, not come after the threat. “Come on, girl...” Castiel whispered. 

The beast took another lumbering step toward the cow, but her eyes remained on the boat.

“Nobody move,” Dean said in a stage whisper. Another step. She was about five feet away from it. “Good girl. Be a sweetheart,” Dean was mumbling under his breath and Castiel couldn’t help smile. 

Her massive head swung to the cow and she seemed to be smelling the air. Castiel said another silent prayer that the odor of the meat would mask the scent of the explosives. Alligators had great senses of smell. The tension was causing his muscles to cramp. Why wasn’t she going for the bait? 

Suddenly, she whipped her tail around and lifted the cow into the air, her jaws clamping tightly around it. “Now,” Castiel and Dean shouted together. Ketch touched the screen of his phone and the noise was deafening. A burst of white then red as blood and gore rained down on them. A cheer rose from the boat and Castiel was patted on the back by Ketch and Benny. Dean was grinning at him and despite his feelings, he smiled back. 

Jo and Benny coiled up the rope and cleaned up some of the debris, while Dean called his father to let him know the good news. Ketch, moved closer to Castiel where he was making notes on his phone. He had to write a report to the Texas Fish and Game Commission and he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget any of the key facts. “You aren’t from around here,” the other man said in his slight British accent. 

“Neither are you,” Castiel countered, not lifting his eyes from his screen. 

“Touché.” Ketch leaned against the side of the steering column, appearing nonchalant. Castiel hid a smirk. “Winchester seems to like you.” 

“We are friends,” Castiel hedged, wondering what Ketch’s game was. 

“Perhaps more,” Ketch said, more of a statement than a question. 

Castiel finally looked up. Jo and Benny were back in the boat, their uniforms wet and stained. It was a perfect excuse not to converse with Ketch. Something about the man made his skin crawl. It was obvious that Dean and Ketch had a past, but had they been lovers, or was that wishful thinking on Ketch’s part? It wasn’t any of his business. That’s what he told himself. Dean ended his call and grinned at everyone. “Dad... Chief Winchester said to tell everyone ‘good job’.” 

It was only after they were heading back in the direction of the warehouses and businesses that a sense of desolation settled over them. Castiel knew that the endorphins from the hunt had faded and now, they were remembering their friend’s death. “We need to go recover...” Dean stopped, turning his face away from them. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “Ketch, we’ll take you back to your truck.” 

“Of course. I was glad to be of service. To whom shall I send my bill?” 

“Send it to me. I’ll make sure it gets paid,” Dean said, and Castiel could hear contempt in Dean’s voice. 

“Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll give you the friend’s discount.” Castiel’s fists tightened. He wasn’t prone to violence, but he wanted to slap that cocky smile of the Brit’s face. 

“Yeah. Fine.” Dean’s voice was flat and Castiel wanted badly to hear the history between the two men. 

Silence hung like a pall over the group as Benny took them back to where their trucks were parked. Ketch jumped off the boat, the water reaching mid-thigh. He gave a two-fingered salute to them. “Glad to be of service.” They watched him wade through the water until he got to the rise were his vehicle was waiting. He honked as he turned it and drove away. 

“I don’t even want to know how you know that dude, Cher,” Benny said, shaking his head. 

“It’s a long, boring story,” Dean said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.” 

The trip back to the warehouse was quiet. Once inside, Benny put the spotlights on and he maneuvered the boat toward the place Garth and their flood victim lost their lives. Dean went over first and located Garth’s hat. Jo scanned the boat and her gaze landed on the cooler. She emptied the ice and drinks onto the deck. “Jo, we could’ve used...” 

She spun on Benny. “I’m not putting him in that,” she shrieked, her words echoing off the metal walls. She was pointing to the black, plastic bag in Benny’s hands. He shrugged and pulled her into his arms. Her sobs broke Castiel’s heart. He looked out at Dean and the man looked shell-shocked, like a wartime soldier who’d seen too much. In his hands, he held one of Garth’s legs, the uniform pants ragged and torn and the boot still on his foot. Castiel knelt down to take it from Dean, lowering it carefully into the now empty cooler. 

The work was gruesome and emotional. They found traces of both Garth and the woman, her remains going into the plastic garbage bag. It was all done quietly and with respect. When they were done, Castiel held out a hand to haul Dean back into the boat. 

Dean picked up his phone from the dash and made the call. “Chief, we have the remains of Game Warden Garth Fitzgerald, The Third, aboard and are bringing him home.” He was quiet as he listened, then said. “Yes, Sir. Fire Station Twenty-Six... ten-four... ETA thirty minutes.” 

Benny edged the boat out of the warehouse and reached up to turn on the light bar. Castiel knew it was out of respect for their fallen teammate. Dean stood at the bow, shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back. Jo sat at the stern, eyes swollen and staring off at nothing in particular. 

As they neared the station, Castiel saw the flashing lights. A chopper was waiting, its rotors turning slowly. The station’s engines, unable to respond to emergencies due to the high water, had been pulled out onto the apron and each had their light bars on. John Winchester stood at attention next to his truck, also lit up. As the boat nudged onto drier ground, he saluted. Jo scrambled to her feet and the three remaining game wardens returned the gesture. Castiel felt his eyes welling up. He hadn’t known Garth for very long, but the man had been warm, kind, and funny. 

Dean remained stoic as he and Benny brought the cooler up onto dry land and then loaded it into the chopper. Castiel knew the funeral would have to wait until the city was safe from the aftereffects of the storm. He would most likely be back in Florida. They returned to the boat and Benny carried the woman’s remains to the waiting crew. 

The rotors began to turn faster and the helicopter took to the air. Technically, his job was done. It would be best to leave soon. As much as he wanted to stay and help the victims of the storm, he needed to protect what was left of his heart. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting close to the end here. Only one more chapter after this one.

Dean was glad they blew up the fucking thing that killed Garth, but he was grieving. He’ d  known th at  crazy fool for years. He’d been there when his kid was born. And God, now his father would have to tell Bess. He didn’t envy that, but he would make a point to go see her before the funeral.

Jo and Benny helped him trailer the boat and even though they still had daylight left, Dean made the decision to let everyone go home. They had plenty of boats on the water doing rescue work. His team wouldn’t have their minds in the right place. 

Cas was quiet and Dean was thankful. They were both wet, tired, and coming off an endorphin high. All Dean wanted to do was take a hot shower, down a few beers, and eat something he didn’t have to cook. “Pizza good for dinner?” Since Porter hadn’t been affected by the flooding, they should be able to order one to go.

“Yes. That’s fine,” Cas responded softly. A few minutes went by while Dean pulled up  the local  Pizza Hut’s number on his phone and called in an order. Once done, h e tossed the phone on the console between the seats, Cas turned to face him. “Who was that man?”

Playing dumb wouldn’t get him out of this one. “Ketch? I met him while I was over in the sandbox. He was... I guess you’d call him a mercenary, but he played well with the British Armed Forces. Honestly, no one really knows what he does. Now, I think he works for some government agency, whether it’s ours or not, who knows?”

“Did you sleep with him?” Dean almost swerved off the road. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. It isn’t any of my business.”

Dean pulled into the first gas station he saw. “Going to grab us some more beer.” Once he was out of the truck, he said a silent prayer that he hadn’t had to answer that question. Would he have lied? To  Cas ? It was complicated. Damn complicated.

Beer in hand, he got back into the truck. Before he started the ignition, he took a deep breath. “We had a young guy in our unit. Harris was from Iowa, a hayseed  farmboy . First time away from mama.” He stopped and stared at his hand wrapped around the steering wheel. “It was friendly fire. An accident. He took two rounds in the head. Damn fool wasn’t supposed to be there.” He laughed bitterly. “He just wanted to save a fucking dog. A  _ fucking  _ dog.” 

Cas ’ hand reached over and covered Dean’s. “Anyway, shit hit the fan and our CO wanted to cover it up... blame it on the insurgents. Ketch had witnessed the whole thing and well, let’s just say, Harris’ family knew the real story in the end. I admired Ketch for that. Parents should know the truth. Good or bad. Right?”  Cas squeezed his hand and then released it, pulling it back into his own lap.

“ We were given orders to distance ourselves from Ketch, but hell, I felt like I owed him a beer. I hitched a ride with a convoy and met up with him at the BAF camp. He had a bottle of Scotch in his hooch and...” Cas seemed to tense like he knew what was coming. “It was one time. We were drunk.” It was cliché, but still the truth.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Dean.” But somehow, Dean knew it mattered. He cared about what  Cas thought of him. He cared and that’s what scared the shit out of him.

The next morning, Cas declined going ou t  with the search and rescue team. He said he had reports to write and it made sense. It wasn’t until  Dean got hom e, hot, tired, and soaked through that he knew something was off. The house was quiet, not that Cas was loud, but this was different. He called out and when he got no answer, he ran to the guest room. It was empty. The bed neatly made and a sheet of paper from Cas stupid yellow legal pad was in the middle of it. He stared at it for a few seconds before snatching it up and taking it into his own room.

He sat on the edge of his bed and began to read.

_ Dear Dean, _

_ It was time for me to go home. Classes will be starting in the next few days and I must prepare. I know it is cowardly to leave without saying goodbye, but it is for the best. You are a good man, Dean Winchester, and I’m lucky to have worked by your side.  _

_ Castiel _

For the best? For the fucking best? Dean balled up the note and threw it across the room, where it bounced off the wall and rolled in front of his dresser. Angry, Dean stripped out of his uniform and stepped into the shower. The water was too hot, but he didn’t care. He scrubbed his skin until it was pink and abused. When it ran cold, he turned off the tap and grabbed the towel. He swiped the steamy  mirror with the side of his hand and stared at himself . “Yeah, it’s for the best. He was too good for you, asshole.”

The whiskey went down hot and bitter. Two shots in and he’d forgone the glass, taking it right out of the bottle. “Not like you would date him anyway,” he told himself aloud. “Men are for fucking, not all that hearts and flowers shit.” 

“You’re lying,” a voice in his head told him, but another couple of swallows of Jack a nd  he’d sile nced that voice.

The next morning, he called in sick. He stayed in bed and watched mindless television. Sam called him and he lied about having food poisoning from takeout food. He fell asleep during an episode of Judge Mathis and was startled awake a couple hours later by someone knocking at his door. Dean didn’t have the energy to put on clothes, so he opened the door in his boxers.

“Nice,” his father said in lieu of a greeting. Dean couldn’t remember the last time his father had been to his house. Maybe right after he bought it? 

“Dad... I called in...” 

“No shit. Why do you think I’m here?” John Winchester pushed past Dean and took in the state of the living room. The pizza box from the last night  Cas was there was still on the coffee table. Beside it were several beer bottles and the empty bottle of Jack. Dean saw him purse his lips in disapproval and he wanted to bury himself in a hole. “Sick? More like hungover,” his father snapped.

“I have plenty of sick leave built up,” Dean defended, feeling vulnerable in his half-dressed state.

John spun on him. “You do. You haven’t taken a sick day since you had the flu two years ago.”

“So, what’s your problem then?” Dean asked, his embarrassment turning to anger.

“Sit your ass down,” John commanded and Dean had no choice but to do as he was told.

John sat next to him on the couch, he set up the bottle of Jack that had been lying on its side. “I know Garth’s death hit you hard, son.” It was the softness in John’s voice that did Dean in. He felt tears welling in his eyes and used the heels of his hands to press into them. He would not cry in front of his father.

“But that’s not what’s got you in a tailspin, is it?” Dean stared down at his toes. He could feel his father’s gaze. “Son...” John clasped his hands together between his knees and stared at the picture of him, his deceased wife, Sam, and Dean perched on the bookcase. “When your mother died... I was a mess. You were there. I have regrets of the way I treated you and Sam. Losing her almost killed me.”

Dean was afraid to breathe. John Winchester had never talked about their mother’s death. Not like this. “You were a Godsend. I don’t think I ever told you that. You took care of Sam. Hell, you took care of me when I was deep in the bottle.” He reached out and pushed the empty whiskey bottle further away from him. “ Mary ... Mary meant the world to me. She was my world.” He stood abruptly and walked to the picture, picking it up. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Kate. She’s a good woman.”

“But she’s not mom,” Dean whispered.

“No, son, she’s not Mary.” He set the picture down and walked over to the couch again. Dean was surprised when he sat across from him on the coffee table. An empty beer bottle fell to the rug as it was shoved out of the way.

“Do you ever feel like you settled?”

“For Kate?” John shook his head. “No. You should never settle, Dean.” 

Dean looked down at his feet again. This was surreal. His father continue d,  “Dean, you r Cas... ”

Dean’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest. How? He had no idea. The words weren’t there. John held up his hand. “Dean, I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t know what...” 

“Save it, son. I saw the way you looked at him. I might not be the best of fathers, but I know my sons. I knew from the get-go that Sam would never follow in my footsteps. You... you on the other hand, were like me in so many ways. Tough, unwilling to talk about feelings... and that’s where I went wrong with you. I’m proud of you, Dean. I know I should have told you years ago. God, when you joined the Marines and were sent over there, I was scared to death. Proud, but so damn scared. I didn’t want to lose you too.”

John seemed to be collecting himself, so Dean sat in stunned silence. His father was proud of him. And what about  Cas ? 

John pulled a folded piece of paper out of his uniform pocket and handed it to Dean. “This is a copy of an email from a colleague at Florida Fish and Wildlife. He’s holding a game warden’s slot open for you.”

Dean looked from the paper to John, his confusion evident. “I don’t understand. You don’t want me here anymore? Are you firing me?”

John gave a snort of laughter. “I may have ove r - e stimated your intelligence.” John stood again and tugged Dean to his feet. “Go get your man, son.”

He could only blink stupidly at his father. John smiled, patted his shoulder, and moved toward the door. “I put you out on vacation leave for one week. Then you need to come back and officially resign.” 

The door closed and Dean sank down to the couch again, his legs weak. Then he opened the folded email. In it, his father had sung his praises, calling him one of the best game wardens he’d ever served with. The  _ colleague _ , a Cesar Cuevas, the Division Director, responded, stating that Dean could transfer to Florida Fish and Wildlife, keeping his time and grade as a senior warden. He’d be working out of the Gainesville office.  _ Gainesville _ . Where  Cas taught.

Castiel had planned it all out. He was a coward, but he needed to leave Dean while he had a shred of heart left. Hearing him talk about that poor, young man had been the last straw. He was in love with Dean Winchester. He didn’t care that he’d slept with Ketch. That was in his past. Hell,  Castiel had a long list of ex-lovers. No, it was the way he spoke about  the deceased soldier. The way he knew the boy’s parents needed the truth. 

Dean, tall and handsome in his uniform, left for work and like a thief in the night,  Castiel hastily packed his bags, wrote a stupid note, and called an Uber to get him to the airport. 

Landing in Atlanta, he had a three-hour layover. He spent the time arranging with his TA, Kevin, to pick him up at the airport, with a promise of dinner as incentive. Then he called his parents to ease his mother’s mind.

In Gainesville, he headed for baggage claim, and met Kevin. He spent the ride to the restaurant telling him about the deadly adventure he’d been on. Kevin was enthralled and wished  Castiel had taken pictures.  Castiel laughed. Taking pictures wasn’t in the scope when a twenty-foot alligator was chasing you. He put up a good front for his TA, but once he was home and behind closed doors, he let himself grieve for something he’d never even had.

Sunday found him doing laundry, dusting, and taking the bike out for a spin. He’d missed her. The Harley ate up the miles and he found himself at Big Shoals State Park. He took his students here once a semester for an off-the-books field trip to see some of Florida’s reptiles in the wild. Letting his bike idle, he stared up into the trees. It was late enough in the afternoon for the park to be peaceful. Nature always grounded him. He’d be fine. In a few weeks, he wouldn’t even remember what Dean Winchester looked like.  _ Yeah, right _ , he told himself.

His first class on Monday was Genetics for his undergrads. He projected the syllabus onto the screen. Once the students arrived, he’d get everyone’s email and they’d get an electronic copy. He refused to hand out paper. 

At ten, the students began entering his lecture hall. He let everyone get settled and at five after the hour, he called everyone to attention with a roll call. “Welcome to Genetics of Reptiles and Amphibians. I’m Professor  Castiel Novak.” He quickly went over his expectations and then turned to the syllabus. “As you can see, you’ll have three essays and one oral presentation to complete this semester. Before you begin any of these assignments, you will need to write a synopsis and clear it with me during my usual office hours.” 

The door in the back of the lecture hall opened and  Castiel frowned. He took points off for tardiness. It was the one thing he would not tolerate and he geared up to reprimand whomever was interrupting him. The words caught in his throat when Dean met his eyes from the back of the room.  Castiel swallowed and the entire class turned around to see what had his attention. Dean took a seat in the last row and  Castiel tried to get back on track. Why was he here?

“I... uh... this class will include field work. Prepare to get dirty and those that don’t want to touch frogs and snakes should seek their degree in something else.” Why was he here?

“Our first course of study is  Urodela , salamanders and newts.” Why was he here? Thirty-two pairs of eyes stared back at him and he didn’t know what to say. “Could you excuse me for a moment?” He set the controller for the screen on his desk and strode purposefully up the middle aisle. “Come outside, please,” he hissed.

Unfortunately, his office was right across from the lecture hall and the door was open. Kevin sat at his small table, eyes wide. “Kevin can you... go... somewhere?” With a quick nod and a confused look at Dean, his TA scuttled out the door. 

“Hi,  Cas .” Dean smile was sheepish.

“Hello, Dean.” He took in those beautiful green eyes, the smattering of freckles, and those  fuckable lips. “Why are you here?” 

“I came to see you,” Dean said softly, almost a whisper.

“But why?”

“I need to know something.” Dean turned away from him and looked around his small office. Photographs of past trips with students hung next to his diplomas and teaching certificates. He moved to  the still-open door , tracing his finger of the gold letters. “Doctor  Castiel Novak, PhD,” he read aloud. 

“Dean...”  Castiel was getting impatient. 

“If I were to ask you on a date, would you go?” Dean blurted the words out in a rush, still not making eye contact.

“Would I... Dean, you didn’t come all the way from Texas to ask me out.”

“No, I didn’t.” He moved behind  Castiel’s desk and spun the chair around. “I do want to go out with you, but I didn’t come for  _ that _ .” He picked up the stuffed gecko one of his graduates had given him. He put it back down and took a deep breath, then bit his lower lip.  Castiel waited.

“Could you see yourself with someone like me?”

“I don’t understand,”  Castiel said, leaning against the door jamb, his hands going to the pockets of his blazer out of nervousness. He found the wrapper from a breath mint, a nickel, and  nail clippers . 

“I thought this would be easier,  ya know?”  _ He didn’t know.  _ “I thought I’d have game. Because I’m adorable, right?”  Castiel didn’t respond. “I wanted to...” He stood there looking so lost that  Castiel stepped closer.

“Dean, are you trying to tell me that you want to _ be _ with me?” Dean simply nodded. “Oh.” Their  gaze locked again and this time  Castiel let his guard completely down. He allowed Dean to see the emotion in his eyes, the love he felt for the stupidly adorable man.

Walking forward,  Castiel moved around his desk, blocking Dean against the back wall of his office. Dean didn’t move or even look like he wanted to escape. When he was close enough to touch,  Castiel whispered, “I supposed we could make a long-distance relationship work, as long as both of us are invested.”

“Yeah, well, long distance wouldn’t work for me, Cas.”  Castiel felt his pulse racing. He was head of the department, tenured, how could he... He swallowed and licked his lips preparing to tell the man that he loved that he could transfer to one of the universities in Texas, but it wouldn’t be easy, but Dean reached out and took his hand. “See, I had built up this illusion in my head that my dad wouldn’t accept the real me.” Dean’s eyes held him in a dream-like trance. “Funny thing is, that he knew all along and he gave me a kick in the ass. He even went as far as to get me a job here.”

“Here?” He understood Dean’s words, but they weren’t registering. “Here?” He repeated.

The corner of Dean’s mouth came up on a wry grin. “Yeah, dumbass. Excuse me, Doctor Dumbass, here. As in Gainesville. I start in a couple of weeks. I still need to fly home and officially resign my post. I also  gotta get my house on the market.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed my Creature Feature. Just a shout out to Stephanie - you rock! Thank you for helping with this.
> 
> And a big I LOVE YOU to StellaDupree. She is my muse, my bestie, and my voice of "non-reason".

Dean, his eyes closed, let his head fall back. He let his other senses do the work. His thighs were burning from exertion and maybe he should take Cas up on running with him. The pleasurable pain caused by his lover’s hard thrusts made him moan. Sweat ran down his face, his chest, and his back, but he didn’t care. The smell of the forest around them mingled with the musky scent of sex. “Beautiful,” Cas whispered and Dean couldn’t help but preen. He raised his arms, clasping his hands, so that his chest and biceps were more defined. Below him, Cas laughed softly. “Show off.”

When Cas’ hand wrapped around his cock, he groaned and opened his eyes. It meant Cas was close. He looked down at the man he loved, spread out on the blanket. Cas’ grip, slick with lube, slid up and down his shaft. “Come on... come on... come on,” he whispered the litany. Cas’ blue eyes were dark and his breathing was coming in short bursts. Dean reached down to run the palms of his hands over Cas’ sweaty stomach and up to cup his pecs. Knowing him so well, he pinched his nipples and Cas arched up, almost bucking Dean off. 

“Dean... God...” Cas’ mouth formed a silent scream and Dean could feel the throb deep inside of  him. Cas’ hand faltered and Dean took over, bringing himself to orgasm. His hot bursts of cum landing in ribbons across Cas’ stomach and chest. He lowered himself so his chest was on Cas’ and he could actually feel their combined heartbeats. “Love you... so much,” Cas whispered next to his ear, his fingertips caressing Dean’s back.

“ Mmmm , love you too,” Dean mumbled. They lie there for a few more seconds, getting their breathing under control. Dean winced when Cas’ softened cock slipped from his abused hole. He put his hands on each side of Cas’ head and lifted himself to gaze down at his man. “I’m getting too old for this outdoor stuff. I miss our memory foam.”

“You aren’t old. Isn’t forty the new twenty?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “No, forty is the old forty. Bad knees and all.” He rose up on all fours and grimaced as cum ran down his thigh. They hadn’t used condoms in several months, but it was times like this that Dean missed the easier cleanup. His own ejaculate was cool and slowly drying on both their stomachs now. “Let’s go.”

He stood and reached down for Cas’ hand to haul him to his feet. From t he  trunk of t he Impala, he pulled out two towels. “Last one in has to suck dick,” he yelled and it was Cas’ turn to roll his eyes.

“What a hardship...” He smacked Dean’s ass hard enough to leave a red handprint and then ran for the water. Dean watched him leap from the bank into the clear water of the spring. He waited until he surfaced with a gasp from the cold. 

Dean ran and jumped, yelling, “ Bazinga ” as he hit the water. The springs were always cool, but in early March, they were frigid. He surfaced and swam the few feet to  Cas. “Whose idea was it to come here during the winter?”

“Technically, it’s spring and I believe it was yours,” Cas said and began to lazily float, his arms and legs spread like a starfish. It had been Dean’s idea to go camping and when he was told the Manatee Springs State Park was closed for some renovations, he’d jumped at the chance to have some alone time with Cas. 

Transferring to Florida Fish and Wildlife had been an easy transition, but the hours were long and sometimes he was called to other parts of the state which meant time away from his professor. This was the first weekend since they’d moved in together that they’d had time to get away. 

They’d arrived at the park this morning, with Dean brandishing the keys to the gate, and pitched their tent. They’d have the rest of the day to swim and  _ play _ . 

After their swim, both men got out of the water and dried themselves off. Dean was hungry and he quickly made use of one of the campground’s grills to cook a pack of hot dogs. Cas got the chips out of the box of food they’d brought and sat down on one of the folding chairs to watch Dean. “Spring Break will be here before you know it,” he said conversationally.

“Yeah, what are your plans?” Dean wouldn’t have accumulated any vacation time until he’d been with the department for a year, and he had six months to go. When Cas didn’t answer him right away, he looked up from the browning dogs. Cas was biting his lower lip. “Cas...”

“My parents want to fly down and see me... us.” Dean blinked at him. He’d never met the parents. Sure, Cas talked to them all the time, but Dean always made himself scarce. 

“They know we’re living together?” Dean asked, using the tongs to turn one of the hot dogs.

“Yes.  _ And _ they know I love you.”

“Oh, well... guess it’s time to meet the parents then,” he said with more bravado than he felt.

“I’ve met your father under worse circumstances, so I think it’s only fair,” Cas said, rising from the chair to come wrap his arms around Dean’s waist. He rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “My parents will adore you, Dean.”

“What’s not to adore?” Dean joked, leaning back against  Cas’ firm chest. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Cas kissed the side of his neck and whispered, “You’re burning them.”

Dean let out a sound that was very similar to a squeak and moved the smoking hot dog to the other side of the grill. “Grab the buns and shut your face,” he muttered. He wasn’t going to let his nerves ruin their weekend. He could have a panic attack about Cas’ parents when they got home.

A week later, they were having dinner with Dean’s boss,  Cesar Cuevas, and his husband, Jesse. The four men had become fast friends. Jesse was a cardiac nurse at the Regional Medical Center. “When are your parents coming in again?” Dean shot Cesar an evil look. The man knew how nervous he was. Why was he bringing it up?

“Next week.” 

Cesar nudged  Dean’s elbow. “Look at the bright side, Cas’ dad isn’t ex-CIA.” Dean didn’t want to think about  _ that _ movie and all the shit that went wrong for Ben Stiller’s character. 

“I’m not sure why he’s so afraid. My parents are harmless,” Cas said, glass of wine halfway to his lips.

“I’m not scared,” Dean muttered, picking up his beer bottle and holding it up so the server would bring him another. 

Cas’ phone rang and he narrowed his eyes at the screen. “I have to take this.” He stood up and walked out of the restaurant. Dean watched him go, concern in his eyes. Cas never let anything interrupt  date night.

He came back to the table ten minutes later and Dean looked at him expectantly. “Dean, that was my friend, Noah Taylor. He needs me in Timor-Leste.”

Castiel was enjoying his meal with Dean, Jesse, and Cesar when the call came. Normally, he ignored any calls during date night, but this one was from his old friend, Noah. Noah was a marine biologist who lived in the Northern Territory of Australia. He’d been brought in by the government of Timor-Leste due to a sudden influx of saltwater crocodile deaths. He’d been on the island nation for a few days when the reports of a giant beast began to surface. 

“What the hell is Timor-Leste?” Dean asked, his meal forgotten.

“It is an island nation just north of Australia.”

“And why does he need you?” Cesar asked before Dean could.

“They have a crocodile that has been terrorizing a small community. Five deaths so far.” Castiel sat next to Dean and took his hand. “I need to go, Dean.”

“Yeah, course you do,” Dean said, the fear in his eyes was easy to see. He stood up and tossed some cash on the table. “Guys, hate to eat and run, but Cas and I need to... talk.” Cesar and Jesse nodded and Dean strode from the restaurant.  Castiel had to rush to keep up. Outside, Dean rounded on him. “What the fuck, Cas? After what happened in Houston, you just want to hop on a plane and go hunt another alligator?”

“Crocodile,”  Castiel corrected automatically. Dean glared at him and  Castiel hung his head. He didn’t want this to turn into an argument.

“You can’t go. Your parents will be here soon and I... You just can’t go.”

“Dean, please don’t do this. You know  me. You know I can’t just ignore a request for my help.”

“I’m not waiting around for you to come home in a body bag or worse,  Cas . It’s not going to happen. If you leave...”

The ultimatum hung in the air between them like a tangible thing, a great beast ready to rip them apart.  Castiel reached out and touched Dean’s beautiful face. “You would make me choose?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s mouth was set in a stubborn line.

Castiel turned and walked to the bike. They’d taken his Harley because it had been a perfect night to ride. He was aware of Dean following him. He handed Dean his helmet and pulled on his own. “Well?” Dean’s tone cut through the night and  Castiel winced.

“You will always be my choice, Dean.” He started the bike to stop the conversation. He didn’t want to talk. Not now.

In the driveway of his house he now shared with Dean, he turned off the ignition and waited for Dean to get off the bike. “Cas, listen... it wasn’t an ultimatum.”

“Wasn’t it?”  Castiel snapped and wished he could call back the harsh tone.

“Fine,” Dean growled and swung his leg over the seat. He yanked off his helmet and stomped toward the door, housekey already in his hand.  Castiel stayed where he was until the door slammed behind his lover.

“Fine,”  Castiel whispered. 

When he let himself inside, Dean was lying on the couch, a pillow and blanket from their bed were in his arms.  Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why is it that I’m the one that was given an ultimatum, yet you are the one acting like a spoiled  bra t? You  got your way. You should be happy.” His tone was even, with no trace of the anger he felt. He walked to the bedroom and kicked off his shoes. It looked like he’d be sleeping alone tonight. That’s what he got for falling in love with a stubborn asshole. 

He slept very little and when the morning sun streamed into the room, he moaned quietly. The  llittle sleep he had gotten was restless and the sheets were tangled around his legs. Dean’s side of the bed was empty. A part of him wished it were a weekday, so he could escape with work, but it was Saturday and they both had the day off. They’d planned on doing things around the house and then going grocery shopping. All very domestic, but now... now he didn’t know what would happen. 

He was about to get up when Dean appeared at the bedroom door.  Castiel met his  s tare , but didn’t speak. There wasn’t much to say. He was still hurt and angry, but eventually, he’d get over it. 

Dean moved forward and sat on the edge of the  bed, his ass pressed against  Castiel’s thigh. “I was an ass.” Sensing Dean would say more,  Castiel didn’t respond. “That day... when I came to your class to tell you I wanted to be with you... you told your students there would be field work.”  Castiel nodded. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think that chasing after man-eating reptiles was going to be part of that.” Dean took his hand in his, lacing their fingertips together. “But that’s who you are. That’s the person I fell in love with.”

“Dean, I said I’d stay...”

“ Shhhh ,” Dean whispered. He stood up and went to his side of the bed and opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand. It was where he kept his service revolver when he wasn’t working. He reached for something, but  Castiel couldn’t see what it was. When he did, his breath caught and his eyes widened.

Dean came back to his side and sat again, holding the black, velvet box in his hand. “You are the kind of man who would jump on the back of an alligator. The kind of man who isn’t afraid of monsters. The kind of man that I fell head over heels in love with.” He looked into  Castiel’s eyes then. “The kind of man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Maybe have a kid or two with. When you get on that plane for Timor Leste, I want you to be wearing my ring. I want everyone to know who you belong to...” He took the tungsten ring out of the box and lifted  Castiel’s hand. “Will you marry me, Cas?”

“Yes. God, yes,”  Castiel whispered and watched in awe as Dean slid the ring onto his finger.

Dean smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “Just promise to come home to me, okay?”

“Promise.” 

Their lovemaking was quiet and slow, neither wanting it to end, but like all good things, it was over all too soon. While  Castiel made the calls and prepared his packing list, Dean sat on the couch, an old episode of Full Metal Jousting playing on Amazon Prime. 

Later that evening, the knock on the door interrupted their quiet meal of spaghetti. Dean’s eyebrows came together in question, but  Castiel shrugged. He had no idea who to expect. He turned down the television and heard Cesar’s voice. The man followed Dean into the living room.

“Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I needed to talk to both of you. It took a bit of maneuvering, but I arranged for  Castiel to travel to Timor Leste as a consultant for Florida Fish and Wildlife. We have saltwater crocs here in Florida and as the leading expert in the field, we think it would be a learning experience for one of our game wardens to travel with you.” 

Dean stared at his boss in confusion. “I don’t get it. You’re sending one of your guys with Cas? That bites, you could have sent me. We’ve worked together...”  Castiel watched Cesar’s face break into a smile. “He’s used to me.”  Castiel watched and noted the exact moment Dean understood. “Oh... shit... I’m the guy... the game warden going with him.”

“Got it in one, Winchester,” Cesar said, patting Dean on the back. “Hope you have a passport.”

“He does,”  Castiel said confidently. They’d got Dean’s passport a couple months back when they planned a trip to Honduras with one of  Castiel’s classes.

“Good. Keep me informed. And Dean, I expect a report from you.” Cesar left a few minutes later and Dean plopped on the couch beside him.

“I can’t believe this.” Then he turned to  Castiel . “It’ll be like old times. You and me chasing monsters.”

Castiel’s thumb brushed the underside of his ring. “You and me, chasing monsters.”

**Author's Note:**

> For discussions about this fic and all my others, join my Facebook page 'Palominopup 18+'. We have a lot of fun over there.
> 
> I want to give a special thanks to my good friend, lotrspnfangirl for doing the artwork for this fic. And as always, to StellaDupree for being my beta, my bestie, and my sounding board.


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